Yesterday Cat asked: "Okay Steve, this is one of those issues that does not require a long,
four hour compilation essay, but I have been wondering how that blister
on your foot is doing?"
I just saw her comment today. And that is the theme of this short essay.
When I left the daily-posting ring, I had two projects in mind: to get regular exercise and to get serious about learning Spanish. My friend Leo was the impetus for the exercise program. During one of our conversations he said, "Life is divided into five year segments. And the next five years will be the best years of the rest of your life."
I am not certain I agree with the predicate, but the sentiment embedded in the second sentence appealed to my hedonistic nature. So, I joined him on his 4-mile morning walks on the last two days he was here. And I really enjoyed myself: walking was my primary mode of transportation when I first arrived in Mexico.
If you read the comments on my last essay, you know I developed a very nasty blister on the ball of my left foot during one of those walks. The cause? Probably improperly tied laces. But we will leave the tale of the blistered foot for a moment.
Monday night I went to bed feeling quite normal. In the early morning, I started shivering with one of the worst sets of chills I had ever experienced. And my mind was stuck on one of those thought loops that keep me from sleep. I kept thinking: "I am parking a car in Canada where there are two spaces; in Mexico there would be three" over and over.
That was tied to a very bad headache. None of that worried me too much until I started having sharp chest pains. As far as I knew, I was having a heart attack.
I called a taxi and went to a local clinic. I woke up on Tuesday morning with all of my joints hurting.
After a blood test, my temporary doctor (my treating physician is in Canada until winter) diagnosed either dengue fever, typhus, or chinkunguya. He would not know until I return after another blood test at the end of the week.
Whatever it was, I had no strength; walking was difficult. I could not eat. I could not even drink water. All he could offer was a bushel of drugs -- and sleep.
When I woke up this morning, I felt amazingly well. No headache. No chills. No pain in my joints.
Well, that is not quite true. When I flexed my left ankle, there was a stabbing pain. The foot was swollen and red. The discoloration went half-way up my calf.
To answer Cat's question, the source of trouble was the blister on the bottom of my left foot. I have kept it clean and anointed with an antibiotic ointment. But that was not good enough.
I am now back home after an antibiotic injection (with two more daily shots on the way) and more tablets. (I had Air Force friends who went through less treatment for their social meanderings.)
So, that's the long answer to the question of what has become of my blister. And as for my Spanish lessons, the answer is the same. I have been off of my reading schedule since Saturday.
When I have something more positive to report, I will be back. Until then, I am going to get some rest.
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