So it turns out that the shouty doctor in India prescribed me a penicillin derivative antibiotic, which of course I’m allergic to. It was effective 10 years ago, before the bugs mutated into whatever they are now. That would explain things.
Take 2. Toya Clinic, Ubud. Blood pressure 80/60. Modern bug weapons have me turning a corner in no time. That and 2 massages in 24 hours. Hallelujah.
Turns out, also, that I really suck at bed rest (surprise?). Like, really.
I allowed the edge of the garden as my self-imposed boundary (I have to play with Jake or he’s reluctant to go outside much. Unless he’s haring around with his new girlfriend Poppy…).
Anyways, my lungs – which have previously healed themselves pretty quickly, needed some help this time. Usually my bronchitis sounds worse that it feels (sinusitis ALWAYS feels worse than it can ever sound). This time I felt worse than ever – close to the dark hole of typhoid. I have immense empathy for people with mono or chronic fatigue.. What dyou mean I’m still tired, what dyou mean I can’t dance??? WTF.
Ah, and of course I can’t make decisions about what to do with the rest of my life when my health is suboptimal!
Super grateful for recovering health & for each beautiful breathe..