Sunday I was fine. Paul came over for supper and we hung out for a while. I played with the new puppy and everything was great. My room is a mess and kind of intense for new pets so I decided to close the doors and sleep in the living room with the cats and the puppy. (It certainly isn't unusual for me to sleep on the couch.)
At about 1.45am I woke up with what I thought was stitch in my side. I spent about 20 minutes trying to stretch it out but instead of getting better it got worse. Within an hour I was struggling to get a breath at all. It felt like someone was crushing my ribs.
Here's a Pro Tip - Panicking makes breathing really difficult and when you're panicking because you can't breathe, it makes things worse.
So at about 2.45am I called my mom who came over to see if there was anything she could do. There wasn't.
This is probably the point at which I should mention that I have a MAJOR hospital phobia. I have broken and set bones myself rather than go to the hospital. So when I heard myself saying "we need to go to the hospital", it dawned on me just how serious it was getting.
Another thing I learned - When you show up at the hospital gasping for breath, they don't make you wait. I got a room in record time and had more tubes and things stuck in and to me than the Borg. I got intimately acquainted with both Morphine and Gravol, both of which made me incredibly groggy and neither of which made it any easier to breathe or less painful.
After a lot of drugs, more questions than I've ever been asked in my life, a CT scan, giving enough blood to cover any possible test and eating an icebergs worth of ice chips (which I had to BEG for from the first doctor and then was given as many as I wanted by the second) they decided that it wasn't any of the more horrible of possibilities.
No blood clot, no heart attack, nothing that needed surgery. It is, in fact pneumonia. It's not usual for it to come on so suddenly or severely but I guess I'm just lucky.
They loaded me up with antibiotics and gave some prescriptions. I even got some food, which I managed to keep down for almost an hour. Then I finally got to go home.
All things considered, it was a pretty shitty day. Today I'm feeling a bit better, still hurting everywhere and breathing is a luxury I promise never to take for granted again. But I'm better than yesterday.
So if anyone needs me, I'll be at home, being sick and hanging with the cats and the puppy.