This newest asthma adventure of mine is apparently more than a mere flare up. This is some sort of lung infection caused by chlamydia or something like that. My peak flow — the measure of how much air you expel from your lungs, measured in liters per minute — is fine, and the doctors can detect very little wheezing or other odd lung sounds, but I’m still short of breath and I get winded easily — walking, say, from my hospital bed to the bathroom. I had hoped to leave this hospital today, but when the doctor listened to my lungs, the first thing he said was, "Yep, he’s going to be here for another day." I groaned inwardly; I have a lot of work to do that I can’t do from the hospital, and I miss being at home. At least, though, I could avoid going to Portland this week (my apologies to my regular readers from Portland; it’s a beautiful city, but I’ve spent enough time there).

One of the things that I dislike about hospital stays is the smell. When you sit in one bed for more than a day, you acquire… well… an odor. The last time I was here, I wanted to do something about it, but was told that showers were not an option unless I wanted a nurse’s assistance — and for some reason I allowed my modesty to overcome my desire for cleanliness. So this time, you can imagine how excited I get when the Nursing Assistant came in to my hospital room this morning and said, "Would you like to have a shower?" Naturally, I said yes. The downside, though, was that there is no shampoo available here so I had to wash my hair with hand soap; and the protect the shunt in my hand where they’ve been sticking IV medications (a clever practice, and a nice way to avoid getting repeated IV’s; they just stick a plastic catheter in and leave it there and inject new medications through that), my hand would have to be wrapped in cellophane and a latex glove. So I wound up there in the shower with one hand wrapped up completely in plastic and trying to wash myself down with the removable shower hose and trying to wash hair with hand soap and trying not to splash water all over the bathroom.

Hm. Perhaps the shortness of breath I had at the end of the shower wasn’t due so much to the asthma as to the mere gymnastics involved in taking a shower.

Jennifer and I had originally planned, last night, to go over the floor plans for the house and decide once and for all where the computer room is going to be. We had thought that we should put it in the south side of the house, on the argument that the room there is larger; but now we’re thinking that the front of the house might be better, since the room there is cooler during the day. Well, our plans for that were spoiled by my errant lungs, of course… but at least Jennifer is going to be able to come over to my hospital room tonight; she’ll be bringing the floor plans and we’ll be able to make a decision tonight, in the hospital. Naturally, my preference is for the two of us to go home and do this planning together there, but this is good enough, I suppose. While I may not get to spend the night at home yet, at least it’s the middle of the week and we’re both in the same state.

Until next time….