Note to self: never even think, let alone say out loud, anything along the lines of “I have seen the Sagrada Familia, I have walked inside an opal, I can die happy now.” Because Fate will look down her nose at you and reply “Reeeeaaaallly. Hold my beer,” and you will find yourself on a Saturday evening in the urgencias department of a Madrid city hospital, having a very young (she looked about twelve, I swear) intern explain to you that you have “pneumonia in, how is it? both lobes of your lungs.” (As it turned out she was wrong, although I wouldn’t find that out for a couple of days: due to a miscommunication between me and the x-ray tech, which is not surprising since we did not speak each other’s language, I had not breathed in fully, so the x-ray was ambiguous. I did, however, definitely have pneumonia in my left lobe.)
I have a post about Gaudi that is nearly done.
I have a post I want to write about being in the hospital.
I had no computer in the hospital, so I have not been online for five days, so I don’t know what’s been happening in the world (although, actually, that was kind of nice), so I don’t know if there is anything else I want to write about.
But right now I am exhausted just by the effort of sitting up for long periods of time or walking a block. (Yes, the doctor cleared me to fly.) So I don’t know how long those will take.