Being ill is the worst. While some say it's your body's way of demanding rest, like a warning sign, it doesn't make the experience any less frustrating. Especially when my bestie is visiting from Tasmania, and all I want is to go surfing with her.
We did spend the weekend surfing, granted. In hindsight, I'm surprised I managed it, given how breathless I felt. But surfers often believe, "It'll clear out my sinuses," and, truthfully, the ocean does act as nature's saline solution, like a giant neti pot. After each wave, though, I had to pause, floating to catch my breath before paddling back out, but I did feel a bit better when I came in.
Everyone out there agreed: "Yeah nah, it's good for ya," they said. "Better than sitting on the couch." Many surfers hold the belief that surfing can fix anything. It's certainly a cracker for uplifiting my spirits. The sun was shining, and the waves were divine.
I'm also a firm believer in pushing through. Not by ignoring illness, but by maintaining positivity and a smidge of mind over matter. I do really envy those who've never been sick and attribute it to their personally strong mindset. Perhaps my mind is weak, but I don't think I'm that pathetic.
By Sunday night, however, I was struggling to breathe. Bronchitis—had taken hold. Sleep was hard, as the wet gurgle in my lungs was like sleeping with a snuffle monster. I've been hospitalized in England before with pneumonia, spending a week on the respiratory ward with a nebulizer before discharge. That was before the NHS faced its challenges, and the care I received was bloody exceptional. Still, it was terrifying. So, regardless of alternative suggestions, this time I opted for antibiotics before things escalated. Honestly, it was the closest I've felt to death. No amount of willpower could have pulled me through that.
That's the crux, isn't it? Recognizing when Western medicine is needed and when alternatives might suffice. It's easy to claim that alternative medicine is the sole answer and that doctors are quick to prescribe drugs (with potential side effects - you bet I've researched everything I've ingested). Both perspectives can hold truth without being mutually exclusive.
I know my body and its signals well enough to discern when I'm flirting with danger. Believe me, I've tried all the alternatives: turmeric and honey for the throat (amazing), echinacea, garlic, hearty soups, ginger, bucketloads of lemon and water, zinc, vitamin C, steam inhalations with eucalyptus and oregano oil (that's a good one), pranayama, and yes, positive thinking. I'm continuing all these, of course, along with probiotics to counteract the antibiotics.
Perhaps then I'll just be... biotic?
It kinda bugs me when healthy individuals, staunchly anti-Western medicine, lecture others without ever having experienced the terror of a peak flow meter reading of 10 (when it should be 500) and the accompanying fear of impending death.
A friend's husband once remarked that truly healthy individuals don't get sick. I find that offensive. I strive diligently to maintain my health, but sometimes, a common cold smashes up against with factors like lifelong asthma and menopause, creating a perfect storm. In such situations, foregoing antibiotics could be truly fatal. Have I mentioned that already?
Sometimes, environmental factors beyond our control play a role. The self-proclaimed "never been sick a day in my life" individuals may never have been exposed to asbestos or Agent Orange (miss you, Dad). No amount of apricot kernels or positive thinking could have cured that, and my dad was the healthiest, most optimistic person I ever knew, right up to the last week before he died when he said: 'if I beat this, I think I might go back to the Cook Islands'.
So yes, I'm scheduling a flu shot. Sitting in the sunshine on the front deck, gasping for air after moving between rooms, is far from enjoyable. I trust that modern medicine can bolster my chances of surviving another cold, flu, and COVID season.
Heck, I might even get the COVID shot. If 'they' were mandating it, I wouldn't, but this time it's my choice. The last few times I've had COVID, I felt utterly debilitated, with recovery taking months. You can claim it doesn't exist, but like the common cold, it can and does certainly floor me. When people say, "Oh, I had it, and it was so mild; I can't see what the fuss is about," it infuriates me. This body fussed. This body felt on the brink of death. All bodies are different.
And I know how to mitigate the side effects of antibiotics and flu shots with natural remedies. You bet I'm consuming my weight in sauerkraut.
I understand that many have had negative experiences with doctors in various countries, and to be honest, I harbor some distrust myself, or at least skepticism. I'm well-equipped with knowledge and research. However, overall, the Australian healthcare system is pretty good. I never feel they're merely trying to profit drug companies. They're general practitioners doing their jobs, with 15 minutes to assess and suggest ways to help you feel better. It's up to us to be informed and engage in dialogue with them. For instance, I hesitated at prednisolone, and the docto threw his hands up (kinda) and said "Yep, you know your own body; use your judgment," which, to me, signifies offering choice. If a doctor doesn't treat you as an intelligent individual, find another who does. Seek second opinions. Understand your medications. Explore alternatives. Be smart.
My GP chuckled when I mentioned I'd gone surfing over the weekend. "You surfers," she said. "You think surfing cures everything."
