i could have died because they prescribed me honey...
February 24,2026
dearest reader,
this week has been incredibly difficult.
i am going on week 5 of being sick with bronchitis. after 4 weeks of being forced allow my immune system to work i finally got a doctor willing to give me some antibiotics.
which by the way have been absolutely fucking terrible. my gut biome is destroyed and i am very very sick now. but that is okay. we must carry on.
as such i have been eating almost nothing but apples.
thats right.
apple juice, apples, and apple sauce. some of the things that simply do not make me sick at this moment in time.
this is because I have what feels like an over full stomach. A lump in my throat.
After a quick er visit turns out that I have a rare infection called bacterial bronchial tracheitis. which is a bacterial infection of the trachea. Haha.
This bacterial infection was well on its way to killing me, but luckily I braved the er visit early enough that I am receiving treatment now that should have me recovered by the end of the month.
Reader, I am so furious at the health care system. This infection was completely preventable if they had xrayed me like I requested during my first visit four weeks ago. But they swore it was an upper respiratory infection, but no. It was pneumonia. Which has now invaded my trachea swollen it and blocked it prevent air from getting in effectively.
But no armed with a stronger antibiotic, steroid and nebulizer treatment I am seemingly back onto my road of recovery. I’m lucky to say the least.
Because of that it is unfortunate to say but I actually did not get around to much this week.
I spent much of my time resting and playing animal crossing again.
I’ll leave you hear, this weeks newsletter short as it can be but hopefully we will be back to our regular conversations next week.
on the regression of modern medicine
week 1
i was sick. as sick as i had been in baton rouge during delta. minus the sweltering heat, but my fever made up for the difference with hot flashes and the sweats. every breath was crackling painful and dry, yet somehow extremely wet. my ears, nose, and eyes leaking and my body creaked.
i told myself it was a cold. that it would past.
there is no way this pain could last.
week 2
the utc was crowded. not wrapped around the building waiting in 90 degree head busy but busy enough that i curled my legs up into my chair so that the men on either side of me wouldn’t touch me. accidental or not, any brush on my skin was awful.
i was sweating. my pajamas drenched in sweat. my lungs heavy with mucus. the mask the only barrier between me and the world did nothing for my comfort.
and hour passes.
then another.
“hues”
finally i’m triaged.
one swab. left nostril. right.
second swab. right nostril. left.
back in the waiting room. time passes as if it has somewhere to be.
im still waiting.
“hues?”
yes. i walk through the door.
“room 2”
check for fever. ears. nose. throat. listen to my chest.
“sounds good. covid and flu neg,. upper respirtory infction. probably viral. ill send in some cough syrup and an inhaler. nothing else we can do.”
i sigh. i tell him im an asthmatic. that i had respitory issues from birth. i was concerned it was pneumonia.
“unlikely. this is a virus going around. it last 4-6 weeks”
he points to sign.
its brightly colored that indicated that the cough was the last to go.
week 3
chest heavy. body sluggish.
no more cough syrup. cough is worse.
more blood in my mucus.
more blood from my throat
i go back to the clinc.
its less crowded this time.
they triage me immediately.
the nurse says my cough sounds terrible.
scolds me for not going to the hospital because my chest hurt. nothing they can do if its a heart attack.
first swab. left. right.
sceond swab. right. left.
“covid flu are negative. its just a URI. saline nose wash for the congestion. sudafed for the sneezing. over the counter syrup and honesy for the cough. don’t comd back until the cough lasts 6 weeks.”
“6 weeks?”
“then well know its not viral.”
“can’t you just give me antibiotics?”
“nothing antibiotics can do for a virus. the honey will help.”
“i have asthma and a history of respitory illness. it tends to be bacterial.”
“you have bronchitis from a viral infection.baterical bronchitis is rare. same for bacterial pneumonia. everyone has this right now.”
“oh”
week 4
everything i eat feels like lava in my chest.
is that indegestion? i’ve mever jhad indegestion before.
at least im not congested.
when i cough i bark and squeek. a sick joke of a sound.
my mom keeps telling me her friends are worried about me. this is a long time to have a cough.
“they said not to come back for six weeks. its a virus.”
but— i don’t feel right.
my body no longer feels like my own.
it was once a place that i called home.
but now it was like glass when i breathed.
my ribs hurt, tight like their closing in.
the world is a tilt. the world likes to spon.
my brother tells me he’s starting to worry about me.
we rarely speak.
week 5
my mom’s boyfriend is on speaker phone reccomending a medication to me like hes my dad.
it bothers me cause my body hurts and i long from my father who is buried in the ground four miles to the east.
he’s nice.
and they aren’t really dating anyways.
just phone friends she says.
my cough echoes through the phone.
worries a man i've never met.
back to the utc.
my doctor’s name reminds me of Pochahontas.
every time he says it he pulls his id badge toward my face so that i can see it.
its generic.
he’s anything but.
hes funny.
“im on your team kiddo. that cough told me everything i needed to know”
antibiotics.
cough supressant.
rest.
week 6
my auntie is visiting, and tells me to go to the er.
she’ll stay with my mom. she said i look like death.
i feel like death.
or like the heavy burden of its cloak is on my shoulder.
im trying to eat but its so hard. it hurts.
my skin aches at the caress of my shit.
i can’t breathe.
im tired.
my chest feels like fire.
car. blanket.
er.
12 leads. no reception.
heart rate high.
xray.
diagnosis.
“im glad you came in. you could have died.”
breathing treatment.
antibiotic.
red gatorade vomit on a white fure blanket.
phenergan
change of clothes.
second medication dose.
sent home with four meds.
breathing treatment twice a day,
chest feels like lead but a bearable weight.
anyway that’s what’s on my mind right now.
weekly read
Plated Prisoner Series
I am still reading the plated prisoner series but I will not be finishing it because I hate it so much. Don’t worry because I will be publishing all my thoughts on it in the next news letter
weekly watches
writing sneak peek
the hearth crackles softly, throwing long shadows across the room. He pops the cork and takes a long swig of the viscous liquid, I’M IN THE SAME BOAT AS YOU.
THIS IS NOT HOW THING ARE SUPPOSED TO BE, WRI, The Editor puffs, slamming the manuscript on the desk. THEIR ARE BILLIONS OF CREATURES IN THE WORLD, She continues, pulling open her draw and pulling out an unopened pack of cigarettes. She taps the paper pack on her hand before ripping at the foil and popping one in her mouth. WHY IS IT THE ONLY STORIES YOU SEEM TO WRITE ARE ABOUT THIS BITCH?
The Writer sighs, and takes another drink of his ink, DO YOU THINK I LIKE WRITING ABOUT THEM? THEY’RE THE ONLY CHARACTER THAT THE READER WANTS TO READ ABOUT.
YOU SPOIL THEM TOO MUCH, The Editor snaps while pulling otu a pack of matches. She strikes one and brings it to paper in her mouth. She takes a long inhale before walking over to the window and opening it. She blows the smoke out into the white emptiness outside her window.
AS IF I HAVE ANY SAY AT ALL ABOUT WHO OR WHAT THEY DO, The Writer feels the ink now as the toxic miasma spreads through his body, He words slur, YOU AND I ARE IN THE SAME BOAT, EDI.
IF ONLY THEY HADN’T WENT INTO THE STORY.
to seek. to find.
hues