As most of you know, I've been at the core of an ASP -- PMPVOWs.com -- for the past five years of my life. Originally a marketing ploy and one-time contract, the service quickly blossomed into a "real" business and a full-time career. Over this time, my participation in this great Real Estate web community has flourished to the extent that I'm now chairing a committee as part of the National standard (RQLX).
All this time, my employer's greatest fear was that I'd leave for greener pastures -- a notion I'd mocked on several occasions because I loved who I worked for and what I was doing. However, the one genuine "threat" that I'd always given credit was the opportunity to return "home" to New England: Let's face it, no matter where you've been transplanted, there's no place like home.
Well, a little over a month ago, random chance became destiny: through a series of events that can only be described as Shakespearean in dramatic and comedic value I've accepted a position with MLSPIN, the largest MLS in New England, as Software Development Manager. In early November, my family and I will make the trek back to my seemingly long-lost homeland. I've entrusted my baby in the capable hands of Magenic, an outside development firm with whom I've had some previous experience and that has solid history taking over in-house apps.
Beset by poison monkeys...
So, last Wednesday night, amidst the comings and goings of consultants and trying to dump over four years of hands-on experience with tens of thousands of lines of code, I fell ill. At 1am, I woke with fever ripping through my body and a headache that trumped some of the best hangovers I've ever earned. I took a couple of Tylenol and forced myself back to bed. By 5am, feeling worse, I took a couple of Advil and, again, forced myself back to bed, knowing that work wouldn't be in my future that day. By 9am, I was calling Kerry to bring me to the ER.
The good folks at Edward Hospital wasted no time... within two minutes of interviewing with an admittance nurse, I was rushed by wheelchair to an emergency room. The conclusion was reached fairly quickly: Spinal meningitis. The rest of the day is a blur -- I remember a CT scan, lots of drugs, a needle in my spine, lots more drugs, and being "isolated" to the point that everyone had to wear masks.
Fortunately (?), it turned out that I had the simple form of "viral" meningitis, which can be just about any virus that decides to attack the meninges (protective lining of the central nervous system).
I was taken off isolation on Friday, went down for an MRI to be sure that my brain wasn't still being attacked (particularly by the Herpes variant, which can leave you stupid), and became really good friends with Dilaudid, a remarkably strong pain killer that takes all of about 60 seconds to kick in. I was also infused with a half-dozen of the strongest antibiotics and antiviral agents available to man, and by Sunday was well-enough to be released.
A word of advice: no matter how good you think you feel, take them up on all of the take-home drugs they offer. I was offered vicodin and zofran for pain and nausea, and turned them both down ("I'm feeling much better!")... only to spend the next 22 hours in bed because every twinge made me want to hurl.
So, I'm alive. Beaten down, but alive. Thank goodness for medicine, all the good people who sent sympathy my way, and a strong family support network who made my untimely hiatus less painful to those I love. Also a big thanks to Barton Pitts, President of my current company, who was about as concerned as my own mother and more understanding than any lame duck's boss should be.