My brother has Covid19. I got the call this morning from my sister-in-law. They live in Alabama and due to their own poor health issues (heart and diabetes), they have maintained their quarantines except to go to the Doctor. Apparently, my brother has been having some issues with his medications that have made him delusional and violent. He has PTSD. A couple of weeks ago, they had to place his 85 yr old Mom in a nursing home. That must have triggered something in him and he just went off. He is normally a very loving, gentleman. To make a long story short, last night they had to take him into emergency, due to his paranoia and my sister-in-law was fearful for herself since he wasn\’t being rational.
It was while he was in the ER they tested him and he came up positive. They put him in a covid ward and he threw a fit and they had to restrain him. It could also be dementia or the early signs of Alzheimer\’s. He is also sleep deprived due to hallucinations. He is a young 70 years old, so this is quite a shock.
My goodness, you never know. I haven\’t talked with my family back there since April. We see each other on Facebook and keep up with the occasional text. Apparently, they have been dealing with his behavior for a couple of months. I sure hope they can figure this all out, with all his meds for his heart, blood pressure, It\’s like one medication is for something, but the side effects from another that keeps you alive make you have to take another medication and it just keeps on. Too many don\’t mix well especially if you have some emotional trauma. Poor guy.
LUNGS – THINKING BACK
I did have 2 bouts of pneumonia, back in the \’80s. I had a daycare business in my home for 16 years – Between raising up my own boys and my daycare, I did catch some illnesses from them, in those early years until I built up enough immunities. Other than that, I have been incredibly healthy. Hardly even a cold. The upper respiratory infection the husband and I got, in March 2019, really hit me hard. I never totally got rid of the cough. I\’ve never smoked and the only time I was around second-hand smoke, was when my dad smoked. I always hated the smell, and I would sleep with my window always open. He quit smoking when I was about 8 or 9 years old. He was a 3 pack day Camel smoker.
The deal is, once your lungs are scarred, there is nothing you can do to fix it. It\’s not like cancer, where you can get radiation or chemotherapy. It really just depends on how bad the scarring was and for that, a specialist can tell me more. All I know is that there is something that doesn\’t feel right. I get winded if I walk down the hallway – At times I have this dry cough. Lung diseases are progressive. There are no cures unless your lungs are so bad, and you qualified for a transplant. I\’m not that bad off – I honestly don\’t envision that happening to me. I\’m not worried but I do have questions and we\’ll address those once we see a specialist.
I remember that last year before my Mom committed suicide, she told me she had COPD. HOWEVER, my mom was a hypochondriac. I could never believe her. I do know, she had a cough for a long time. My paternal Grandfather died from Black Lung disease. He was a coal miner in Eastern Tennessee. You don\’t inherit that. I can\’t see where I would have inherited this or even how I would have screwed up my lungs. Okay, I did smoke marijuana back \”in-the-day\” But a couple of hits here and there – not like a whole cigarette.
Last week, I was cleaning my walls – I used a product that smells so good and bought a big gallon of it. I didn\’t read that it was in concentrated form and used it full strength. Hey, it cleaned the walls great but it was toxic to me, yet I still kept on cleaning because of the good results. For a couple of days after that, I really felt congested in my chest like pneumonia. Now I just have a little tickle and when I lay down, I can hear a little noise coming from my chest.
Oh and one more thing, I remember. In fact, I used to laugh about it. I was 8 months pregnant with my last son, Navy. The ex and I were tearing out the subfloor and linoleum of our house and as he pulled it up, I would sweep up the dust. It was a home built just after WW2. I would kid around, wondering if that was asbestos dust.
Only God knows.
From My House – For the homemaking side of me