Don’t Blame Iceland

Yes, I got sick on our trip to Iceland. Yes it was a flu, a bad one, and it evolved into pneumonia. Yes, I’ve been on my butt for the past week or so. But don’t think that it’s the fault of our destination. 

A doctor at my clinic (my regular doctor was away), said the bug I caught seemed to be the same old “awful” one that’s been going around Ontario. I just happened to pick it up in Iceland, perhaps even from a fellow Canadian, who knows? There were plenty of them on the same trip. And after all, our friend Eric contracted strep throat in the Caribbean. You just neve know where these bugs are in the air.

Derek also took ill shortly after me, but his version was more like a glancing blow, while I was hit dead-on by a Mack truck. He recovered after a couple of days while I did not. Why did I get pneumonia while he got well? Part of it has to do with history. Once you’ve had pneumonia, it’s easier to get it again. I’m a repeater while he is not.

So I took my antibiotics and followed the doctor’s advice. “I don’t want you to ever be without a glass of water or a mug of tea.” I woke up, chewed on a light breakfast and took a nap! Lather, rinse, repeat. This was the first year in many that I didn’t get a flu shot. I can’t say for sure whether that’s related, but it’s a coincidence, at least.

In the meantime, a radio pal’s 21-year-old son contracted a chest infection, decided with youthful bravado not to follow doctor’s orders, and succumbed to sepsis in a short couple of days. It was a heart-breaking, stark reminder that things can turn on a dime. Having been there with sepsis in 2010 because of a string of underestimations of my condition, you can bet that I’m going to stay on top of anything that invades my body. Even though I feel guilty about being off work, and find it difficult to watch voice-over audition opportunities pass me by, without good health, you have nothing at all. Anything that doesn’t wait for me, isn’t worth my time anyway.