My goal for 2012 was to spend only as much time working as I would need to fund a year of amazing travel. That was exactly what I did. My consulting gigs were picking up so I spent a majority of the year on various vacations.
In February, friends and I spent a week on St. Thomas touring the surrounding islands while in a near-constant state of inebriation. We rented an amazing house that came with a barely-road-worthy vehicle. The beaches, the water, the food, the entertainment and, of course, bars were the best I ever experienced. I came home from that trip certain that I would never have another trip as amazing as that one.
Barely back from that vacation, my family convinced me to go on a Caribbean cruise with them. Always the agreeable sort, I wrapped up some work and repacked my suitcase. I booked an interior room in an area of the ship that I can only describe as a single's lounge for that was indeed the idea behind this set of rooms. My room had mood lighting ranging from sultry red to moonlight blue. I rarely slept alone as my nieces liked to share my room with me which was so small that I could touch the bed, shower and bathroom all at the same time. The stops were amazing; St. Thomas (it was like returning home!), St. Maarten (my favorite...if I ever go missing, check there first), and The Bahamas (went on a snorkeling excursion here). I had to make a quick visit (no more than 5 minutes tops) to the infirmary while I was on the boat for an ice pack for my shoulder. It was still painful from my fall and the crowded bed was less than comfortable.
The water was pretty rough the day of the snorkeling excursion. My shoulder made it difficult to do a lot of swimming but since my sister is deathly afraid of the water (ocean, pool, pond, puddle....she saw Jaws, ok?) I agreed to take the two younger ones out with me. It was exhausting and a little chilly. Getting back up on the catamaran required you to tread water in line while waiting for the ladder. Waiting to climb up next the guy in front of me fell off the ladder and directly on top of me. Panicking, he flailed a bit and managed to keep me submerged for what seemed like hours. Had I been prepared I would have been able to take a deep breath and swim away. Instead, I swallowed a small amount of seawater and wanted to beat him with my snorkel.
When we disembarked in Miami at the end of the week, I was feeling a little more tired than usual. I chalked it up to trying to keep up with my nieces and nephews. I still had a couple of days at my sister's house before I flew back home. Shortly after the two hour drive from Miami, I laid down in my niece's bed and fell asleep. I woke up a few hours later and was feeling feverish. My mom gave me some water and some ibuprofen and I went back to sleep for nearly 36 hours. I developed a slight cough on the flight home and couldn't wait to be back in my own bed.
The next day, feeling even worse, I called my doctor and she asked me to come in. She suspected I had bronchitis, gave me an antibiotic and an inhaler and sent me on my way. After four days of sleeping most of the time, I woke up the next morning to what I would describe as delirium. My entire body was shaking violently, I was freezing cold, pouring sweat and barely able to get out of bed. With a little assistance I was able to get up and call the doctor. She ordered a chest X-ray and confirmed that I had pneumonia.
Did I inhale seawater during that awful snorkeling trip? Nah, I would have noticed that immediately. Did I inhale some awful virus in the short amount of time I was in the ship's infirmary getting my ice pack? That sounded ridiculous. I stopped wondering and gave in to the crushing fatigue. I fell into bed and didn't rejoin society for at least two weeks.
