Fling texted me the other night to say he was giving up Paleo dieting. I though it was weird but since I was sitting there eating a cake I’d just baked, I didn’t ask questions. I should have.
The next day, I got an Instagram — of him lying in a hospital bed. He didn’t look as though he’d been in a bar fight, so I was worried. I called but I couldn’t get a hold of him. Eventually a Colleague of his called me, on Fling’s behalf. Fling had spent the weekend in hospital.
Too many long-haul flights had led Fling to deep vein thrombosis a while back, which he’d never told me before. He thought he was ok. But he woke up on Friday unable to breathe. He thought he had contracted pneumonia so Colleague drove him to the local ER.
Turned out Fling’s clot hadn’t vanished, it had just moved to his lung. And, if he’d waited a couple more days to go to the ER, he’d probably have died.
Fling’s out now, at Colleague’s house, recooperating for a couple days.
He sent me an email this morning saying he’s not sure if he’ll be flying back at the end of the month. He may have to spend the next 6 weeks where he is, taking blood thinners, before he gets a doctor’s ok to fly.
Of course, me being me I immediately thought of our upcoming trip to the Emerald City (that would be Seattle not Oz). We are supposed to be going to see the Treasures of Kenwood House exhibition at the SAM, along with many other Seattle favs.
If I wait for Fling, the exhibition might be gone to its next stop — in Little Rock. I’m sure Arkansas is very nice, but . . . .
I certainly hope I can have Fling at the Fairmont, but if not, I’ll just take someone else who doesn’t mind a good lie in on sateen weave, 500 count, 100% Egyptian cotton sheets!