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Every person who’s disabled, chronically ill, or just gets sick or injured a lot understands the self-doubt of am I really feeling worse than usual, or is it just my imagination and anxiety? After a recent bout of pneumonia, I’d like to reflect on the value of trusting your gut and how it helped me avoid the most severe outcomes.
Content warning: this post contains candid descriptions of some of the symptoms of pneumonia.
Table of Contents:
I’m sick, but how sick?
My pneumonia started on a Thursday evening with a sore throat. I’ve had strep more times than I’d like to admit in recent history, so I opted to keep an eye on it and go in for testing if it worsened, gained new symptoms, or persisted too long.
When I woke up that Friday morning, I felt like I’d been in the boxing ring with the flu. Fever, muscle aches, a very dry cough, the works. Thankfully, I was already planning on staying home that day and was able to rest my body.
I’ve had the flu before, many times, and Covid. I know what to do for both of them, how long contagion generally lasts, etc. Going to doctors tends to be a waste of time, unless I suspect something worse, or am deteriorating beyond reasonable levels. So, I stayed at home to wait it out.
Waking up on Saturday was a different story. Immediately, I could feel a crackle in my chest as I breathed. I coughed hard, and it was wetter and far stronger than the day before. After a few coughs, a large wad of dark phlegm came up, but my breathing still felt heavy and crackly.
On top of that, my entire body hurt so much I couldn’t pick my foot pain out from the rest of it. My head was pounding, my fever was higher, and I could barely think. Still, Covid is pretty bad, and I remember how much I struggled the first time I had it. But I wasn’t coughing up as much phlegm then. It was hard to breathe, but I’d dealt with that before. Would going to the doctor be worth the energy, money, and time it would take?
So much of me said no, I can wait this out. But something felt wrong. It didn’t feel like when I’d had Covid or flu before, and the crackly breathing concerned me. I could try to explain it away but my gut told me something was off. So to the Urgent Care I went.
It’s never good when a doctor says, “I’m really glad you came in when you did.” After a negative flu test, we did a chest x-ray, which is when they said this. We caught it early—only minor haziness in the lower bit of one lung on the x-ray. Pneumonia can deteriorate fast, and with another day or two untreated that might have spread. I probably would’ve ended up fully in the hospital.
I left with a prescription for two antibiotics at once, and a friend met up with me and helped me get meds and food. Thanks to those things, I was able to start feeling better three days later. Within a week, I could walk short distances again, and my fever had disappeared.
Double antibiotics leads to some painful and dehydrating diarrhea, but that’s better than lungs full of fluid. I probably would have had both if I’d waited longer.
Insurance and cost/benefit analysis
In an ideal world, I’d tell everyone that it’s always worth the hassle to get checked out by a medical professional if you think something’s wrong. The slight nuisance of the visit is worth catching something potentially debilitating, contagious, and/or deadly before it progresses.
Unfortunately, we don’t live in that world. Medical visits may not just be a slight nuisance. America’s profit-centric medical system means many people can face life-altering bills for supposedly simple visits. Even when the bills can be paid, it might come at the cost of other necessities or comforts.
Plus, discrimination is incredibly common in the medical field. Some of the worst instances of ableism I’ve experienced have been in doctor’s offices, and my weight has been an excuse for multiple providers to not dig deeper into other possibilities. Racism and sexism—and especially misogynoir—can make it downright dangerous for many people to go to emergency rooms, urgent cares, and other providers.
I’m privileged enough to have pretty decent insurance, so I was able to go to the urgent care without financial stress. We caught the pneumonia early because of that privilege, avoiding hospitalization or further complications. If you’re someone who also has that privilege, consider that when providing advice to others. What works for you might not be accessible to them. Focus on problem solving within their capacity, not on pushing them into an experience that could have extremely negative consequences.
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When the gut is hazy
As someone with lifelong anxiety, I know that sometimes it’s really difficult, if not impossible, to tell the difference between a gut feeling and anxious worrying. Whether with anxiety or other situations, many people experience this challenge.
I could write a whole post on that topic, and maybe one day I will. Right now, I don’t really feel qualified to give much advice on it. It’s something that I still struggle with a lot.
Generally, though, if the potential cost is quite low, I opt to do what I think my gut says. If it turns out to be mostly anxiety, then I’ve confirmed that there’s nothing serious, with minimal cost to myself. Again, the cost is different depending on the situation and your own resources.
I wish I could provide a nice 10-step process to trusting your gut, but we’d all know that’s bogus anyway, right? Matters of health and disability never come wrapped up in neat little bows. All we can do is what we think is right moment to moment, and hope it doesn’t result in fluid where fluid shouldn’t be.
Have other thoughts or questions about trusting your gut for illness and disability? You can leave a comment down below or etch it into the side of a cough drop. And if you liked this post, make sure to subscribe so you don’t miss the next one.
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Ashton Rose 