I was never a big Seinfeld person, but I trust that as you read the subject line, you heard it in the disgusted tone Jerry always used when he greeted Newman. Tonight I share with you not a final update on biopsy results (still pending?!), but rather an update on the long-simmering war between myself and fungus. Sure, it started out as a simple dislike of mushrooms, but it’s grown into much, much more. Fungus United, the global family of fungi united in its campaign to destroy me (FU for short), recently launched an unprovoked biological attack against me, strategically timed to thwart my enthusiastic attendance at the wedding of a dear friend of 24 years. However, with the help of new partners, I believe we will ultimately prevail.
In retrospect, I’ve been declining for a few weeks now, starting with a cold that lingered. The short story is that last Monday I was admitted to Virginia Hospital Center in Arlington (not Walter! We broke up.). Since then I have toured various units of the facility (and not purely for research purposes in my capacity as a secret medical shopper). I got right up in there as a patient with a perplexing case: Why aren’t any of the antibiotics working? Why is she retaining C02? Can we sneak Polly in here? Why isn’t anything growing out of the cultures? Which garage did I park in? Sure, it’s a fungal infection in the lungs, but is it aspergillus (a type of fungus) or not? Spoiler alert: it is.
So now, with proper meds on board for a few days, the tables seem to be turning on FU. I may even get to go home later this week! Many, many thanks for all of the dances, well wishes, prayers, positive thoughts and energy you’ve all sent my way recently. If history is any indicator, it will be a long slog back to baseline, but I’ll get there with your help, friends.