The old man’s friend
In medical school, during the pulmonary block we learned that pneumonia used to be called “the old man’s friend.” Why? Because before the days of antibiotics it almost inevitably led to the peaceful demise of elderly men. Well, I had pneumonia last month and it sure wasn’t peaceful, and it sure wasn’t my friend. Happily, that must mean that I don’t yet qualify as an old man. Or maybe my particular strain of pneumonia missed the lecture. Anyway, for whatever reason, it was hell. But I guess I shouldn’t complain since, as the alert reader will deduce, I survived.
It began when Ari, my younger grandson, came down with a severe upper respiratory infection. He had a fever and cough, and was really knocked for a loop. A few days later, as Ari was recovering, his dad inherited similar symptoms. And then it was my turn. We all tested negative for Covid multiple times. Joey spiked a high fever and was really sick. Similarly, I had a fever, dry cough, body aches, and lost all energy.
Joey recovered and returned to work, but my symptoms persisted. Then, disturbingly, my coughing got quite a bit worse, and my pulse oximeter said that my blood oxygen saturation was quite low. Finally, despite my reluctance Annie, persuaded me to go to urgent care (yes, it’s true–doctors indeed make the worst patients). The nurse practitioner said my lungs were clear and agreed with me that this was a persistent viral URI (I suspected it was RSV– respiratory syncytial virus). She prescribed a bunch of cough remedies that, also from lectures in the pulmonary block, I knew were worthless. But out of desperation I still got them. Of course, they didn’t help.
By this time I couldn’t lie flat in bed. So I slept in the old green recliner in the living room, getting up frequently to catch my breath and slowly wander around the house. For several nights I was coughing every 30 seconds or so for extended spells. I lost my appetite, a lot of sleep, and nine pounds.
The coughing got yet worse, and my oxygenation went further south. So with Annie’s encouragement (well, insistence) I went back to urgent care. This time another nurse practitioner ordered a chest x-ray: I had a dense left lower lobe pneumonia. Now I knew why I felt so sick! She ordered an antibiotic, but I suspected that it was inappropriate for my situation. Fortunately I’m still in touch with a good buddy of mine from medical school who is board-certified in both pulmonary medicine and infectious disease—what could be a more perfect background! He suggested another antibiotic, which I forwarded to my internist, who agreed. So after a day on suboptimal therapy I began curative treatment. Of course I didn’t respond instantly, and realized that I was short of breath virtually all the time. Annie managed to track down an oxygen concentrator, which delivers extra oxygen through a nasal cannula. What a difference that made! It was as if I’d been thirsty for weeks but no matter how much I drank, I still felt parched. As soon as I started the oxygen, though, my thirst was finally quenched.
The antibiotic kicked in after several days, and I gradually improved. My oxygenation crept back to normal, and I weaned myself off the concentrator. Finally my cough abated, and I was able to sleep in my bed for the first time in three weeks. I guess it turned out that the antibiotic, not the pneumonia, was my friend!
Strangely, one of the most memorable things about this illness was my change in eating pattern. For breakfast, for example, rather than my usual pot of tea I couldn’t even finish a single cup. And curiously, though I always drink my tea black, during this illness I regularly added a bit of milk. I also took much smaller portions of food than usual, and often didn’t finish what was on my plate. Even at the time I felt some pleasure in simply stopping when I felt full rather than being compelled to finish every bite and every sip. Eating and drinking thus became more mindful. Though I’m trying to hold on to this healthier approach to nutritional ingestion, it’s already slipping. I suspect that in a few weeks I’ll be back to my regulation pot of black tea and will automatically consume everything on my plate. A pity.
In the midst of my illness, up much of the night with perpetual coughing and shortness of breath, I longed simply to feel normal. So now, weeks later when I finally just about do, I’m incredibly grateful. As is true for many people who have made it through a close call or a serious illness, I treasure every day I’m alive, and profoundly appreciate what a gift it is to be healthy. In that sense the pneumonia was my friend after all–not because it did me in, but because it didn’t. It gave me perspective on my life in ways I couldn’t have appreciated had I not been sick. But what takes the edge off this euphoric feeling is the near certainty that these feelings will wear off. Just as my eating habits are reverting to my pre-pneumonia norm, and just as my earnest New Year’s resolutions seem always to go by the board.
I wish I had a formula for how to hang on to my appreciation of how sublime it is to be well. Maybe from time to time I should make a habit of drinking only a single cup of tea (with milk, of course) and eating just a half a slice of toast for breakfast to remind me of how sick I was, and thus celebrate my glorious return to health.
Oh, Ken! So sorry to hear that your family and you had to endure this. Thanks for sharing your comments about the illness and your “perspectives on life.” Eternal truths I’ll try to embrace, especially when I am preparing tea.
I’m very blessed that the “old man’s friend” didn’t claim you. Of course you’re not old yet. Maybe that’s why it didn’t. I rather think, though, it didn’t because we can’t do without you. It’s lovely to have you back to your “old” self again, breathing easily, not coughing and resting much better in a supine position.
With love
Oh, Cuzzin Kenny, what an ordeal you went through!
I’m so grateful that you pulled through—and are seeing food again!
Thank you for sharing this— and please stay well!
❤️🙏❤️🙏❤️
Grateful you are back to your “young” self again. The feeling of “normal” is highly undervalued! Each day is a blessing, and as trite as that sounds sometimes, when you’ve been ill those words ring true and clear!
What a friend we have in antibiotics! I’m relieved you listened to Nurse Annie, and are better now.
Ken and friends, Your essay plus the replies remind me of a story either that I read or that my wife told me (she worked at UConn Torrington). It goes something like this: some wealthy person taunts a teacher, asking “What did you make last year”? The teacher answers, “I made a difference.”
Ken, when I think of you, that’s the phrase I hear: “You make a difference!”
All my best to your family, friends and you. Carl
Hey Ken! SO glad you are better! Certainly, serious illness (and other shocks and vicissitudes) can teach us stuff about life and how to appreciate it, but sadly, as you say, the illumination rarely lasts! Whenever I have a bad cold ! resolve that once recovered I shall daily celebrate my unblocked nose…
But I try to cultivate a sense of gratitude for ordinary things, for the good things that have happened, and are happening – “routine,” satisfactory things that might quite easily have been otherwise! I don’t find this a morbid or smug reflection – I am more fortunate than I deserve, I often think. Thank you for your thoughts.
Wishing you and all the family good luck and good health this New Year,
Heather xx
That “friend” of yours was no friend of mine, I’m telling you – I was worried sick (grateful I didn’t have to experience the actual sickness you did, of course). But I’m so very glad it gave you some perspectives you wouldn’t have had otherwise, and also perhaps a bit more readiness to get help whenever the next virus comes knocking. Love you oodles of poodles, as Mama says.
I’m from the Montgomery Bair class of 1966.
In 1980 I worked in DC for the federal government.
I had a stressful job.
I came down with double pneumonia,. .y doctor at the time had me get x-rays and come see him. Both lungs were completely black.
His words to me were “You can go to the hospital and you will get well or you will die, or, you can go home and you will get well or you will die. I chose to go home to my young wife and two children. I had a 105° temperature for several days. And missed two weeks of work!
I loved, obviously.
Subsequently I had between 1980 and 1988 twenty bouts of pneumonia including January, June and December 1983.
In 1988 I left the government to accept a position with a private engineering firm in Richmond! Never had another bout of any illness until age 60 when I let my doctor talk me into a pneumonia shot because of my age! Sick two weeks!
I’ve had another doctor ever since.
Not been sick at all since!
Thank you for chronicling your road back to health so that we could go through that with you 🙂
It was indeed quite alarming to hear you coughing so dreadfully when I was talking with Annie via phone.
Your gratitude encourages me to be thankful for all the little things!
And while you are having your black tea with or without milk, I will be enjoying my green juice, grateful that I can eat, drink, and breathe! 💙