PostHeaderIcon In the hospital



On Tuesday, July 7, 2009, I was to join my New York visitors to a trip to
West Point in Upstate New York. Poppa Lossiette Oracion from California was a Philippine Military Academy (PMA) professor in the Philippines and I knew it would be a treat to have him and his family see the sprawling American military academy near Hudson, a nostalgic recall of the stretch of attractive land of similar beauty in Baguio City, Philippines where he used to teach.

Yet the day before our trip, I realized I wasn’t feeling well. Before I slept that night, I said to Lossiette I might not join them to see the rustic wooded camp less than 2 hours by car north of New York city. I thought it wise to rest as my body was telling me.

When I woke up the next day, they were gone. I was left at home feeling weak with high fever, an indicator that I need to go to the emergency room alone. In a background of a chronic immuno-suppression, I had to do it. I must be having an infection.

It happened to me before. I developed a rapidly progressive sepsis---something that is understandably dangerous. My quick decision to go to the ER saved my life back then, in time before shock from overwhelming infection destroyed my body. That was a learning experience, a real brush with death that I couldn't forget.

I therefore called a limousine to pick me up from home to NYU Medical Center. Not for long, I was given a bed in the busy ER after a brief triage in the crowded action spot. Before the afternoon ended, I was settled at Room 1654 in Tisch Hospital building. My gut instinct was right. I was started on IV antibiotics for what turned out to be a lung infection.

It was only later that I was able to tell with certainty my airway was a bit irritated with a developing cold. I was coughing like crazy. At home, my visitors returned and read my short note telling them where I went. They quickly understood.

Poppa Lossiette and wife Tita Celi were able to tour the West Point without me. They embarked on an exciting discover adventure with newcomer Tita Meding in the bowels of Manhattan while I recuperated in the hospital. I had to direct their moves as they visited tourist spots, rode subways and buses. My hospital bed turned as the command center that made their tour of the city quite happy and meaningful. (Photo Credit: Pidgeons at Times Square) =0=

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