Seize the Day!

Michael nearly died in April. A 40 year smoker, he had tried everything to give the fags away. Patches, support groups, drugs, hypnosis. He hated the gum and  the sprays. He knew that sooner or later smoking would catch up with him, but the habit, the addiction, the longing was stronger than his resolve. Even emphysema hadn't deterred him. I was terrified.

Then his lungs gave way. Walking pneumonia followed by sepsis in his lungs, a plural infusion (two litres of fluid in the sack supporting his lungs) and pneumothorax (collapsed lung). Three hospital admissions in eleven days.  An insidious bitch who took advantage of his compromised lungs and hid when he seemed to be responding to his initial IV antibiotics. A second hospital (because his initial specialist was on leave) with a arrogant prick of a specialist who was rude, dismissive and dangerous. Three changes of antibiotics in five days, huge fevers, hallucinations and cessation of urination did not appear to bother this excuse of a practitioner.

After five days, I ascertained that Michael's original specialist had returned from leave, so we escaped.  We returned to a far superior and compassionate specialist, an excellent team of supporting doctors, caring and engaged nurses and committed ancillary staff. Even so, Michael was in hospital for another two weeks and we came home with him still on IV antibiotics. Another two days in hospital at the end of May confirmed our suspicions that Michael's recovery was going to be slow and complicated.

And so we have reached the second half of July. Michael is not out of the woods yet. He has tachycardia (rapid heart rate) anemia, sweats, nausea and hand tremors. He feels exhausted much of the time. A lurking mass in his right lung is being monitored. We don't think it's cancerous, but we have a CT in September to check its progress (or hopefully lack of progress).

In the meantime, we are determined to embrace life like there is no tomorrow. We spent two weeks camping in Michael's beloved Goldfields, we have bought a new mattress, a new lamp and we are planning the completion of Michael's metal art gallery. He is excited and eager and alive.

Today, I bought a bright, fiery orange mat for our bathroom floor. We are filling our lives with colour, with energy, with passion. I have new knickers and I'm wearing them. I pulled my red pashmina out of my wardrobe and discovered the moths had been munching it. You know what? I wore it anyway because I love the colour and I couldn't see the holes when it was draped around me.

We have stared death in the face this year but we're still hanging in there. What I've learnt is never take life for granted. And don't put anything on hold, because I may not be here tomorrow. So wear new knickers, use adored and fragile utensils, leave the string of pearls on, put on revered but seldom worn clothes and take that holiday to the sea, the desert, the resort. Do what makes us all happy.

For tomorrow may never come.

Goldfields campfire at Golden Horn (abandoned mine)