Friday, 14 August 2015

My Body Is At War With An Invader

When I said I wasn't out of the woods yet yesterday, I didn't know how correct I was. My hope was that I would come home, take it easy, get some rest, take the antibiotics, and all would be well. Alas this is not how it is going. Even before I got home yesterday, my fever had returned; initially low, but rising. By the time I got home, I took a couple of Tylenol to help with the fever. It broke; I began to sweat. After dinner I went right to bed.

In a few hours my fever returned. By midnight it was high enough to make me take more Tylenol. I'm no where near the daily maximum dose on the bottle; I'm just using it as needed to help my body in this battle. Once again, after the Tylenol, my fever broke. Once again, I began to sweat. This time my bedsheets took the brunt of it. Poor Katherine had to put up with me tossing about, or at least trying to move about, to find someplace comfortable. There was none.

I have a war raging inside of me, fought on a microscopic scale. The infection in my body, the unwelcome invader, is attacking me, seeking to destroy whatever it can. My white blood cells, my army of defenders, swarm out to attack, battling back the invader, killing it where and whenever it can. The side product of this intense battle is the fever, as if the warring parties were setting fire to the battlefield, using a scorched earth tactic to fight one another. Tylenol puts that fire out, allowing my defending white blood cells to focus on victory instead of fire fighting.

The antibiotic has it's part too, providing a sort of support battalion for my white blood cells, a kind of mercenary group who have signed on for this battle and this battle alone. If I don't take the pills, my body endures this war all on its own, white cells fighting valiantly on all fronts, consuming energy and strength along the way.

In a healthy body, this war would be over quickly. Many people get these kinds of infections and never even know about them. They come, the white cells do their part, the invader is defeated. In my situation, I am not fully capable. My body has other issues going on, other problems to fight. I'm a great target for infection, a kind of natural population cleansing system. Were it not for modern care and medications, I would not be here any longer. I would have lost a battle somewhere along the line.

No matter. I have my white cell warriors, my Tylenol, my antibiotics. I have the tools. I have the will to fight. It will just take a bit longer to wage this war, to win.

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