In recent weeks, my absence from the blog may have caused some confusion among my readers, particularly those who do not follow me on social media. This has been a demanding and uncertain time for me, spanning three and a half weeks, and here’s what unfolded.
It all began on Tuesday, October 7th. After awakening from my midday nap, which has become a routine at this point in my life, I suddenly encountered a severe coughing episode, one that surpassed any I have experienced previously—even during my encounter with Covid. The violent episode persisted for around three minutes, leaving me nearly breathless. In a panic, I reached out to a neighbor to take me to my pneumologist, whose office fortunately lies just about 500 meters from my home. Although initially hesitant, they eventually consented to examine my situation. Following a series of tests, including an X-ray, my pneumologist concluded that I had a pneumothorax, meaning my right lung had collapsed.
They called an ambulance, and I was swiftly transported to the nearest hospital, where they promptly performed a thoracic drainage. They inserted a thick tube through my right side, situated between my ribs, linking it to a suction device to draw out air, fluid, and debris from my chest cavity, enabling my lung to re-expand. That night was filled with excruciating pain, the likes of which I had never experienced before, causing me to cry out in sheer distress. Fortunately, as pain relief and sedatives began to work, I eventually slipped into unconsciousness.
The next week was spent in bed, undergoing continuous examinations. Ultimately, after several X-rays, the doctors concluded that the thoracic drainage had successfully done its job. On Monday, October 13th, they removed the tube. Initially, everything seemed alright until my right side began to swell significantly, inflating like a balloon. Fortunately, my doctor was nearby and, seeing my condition, hurried me back to the operating room for another thoracic drainage. I was then quickly transferred to the university hospital’s specialized thoracic surgery clinic.
There, after further examinations and X-rays, they informed me of a lung perforation and diagnosed me with subcutaneous emphysema, indicating that air from my lung had inflated the soft tissue under my skin. My right arm looked considerably thicker compared to my left, and my face swelled up resembling a disgruntled bullfrog. A strict regimen of medications, examinations, and monitoring followed for ten days, until this past Wednesday, when it was decided to perform a procedure known as pleurodesis—commonly referred to as “gluing” the lung. This involved injecting a talc slurry through the drainage tube into my chest cavity, causing irritation between the parietal and visceral pleura layers, effectively sealing the space between them and preventing further fluid accumulation. While some subcutaneous emphysema had diminished by this point, it was evident that recovery would be a lengthy journey.
Eventually, the drainage tube was taken out, and after a follow-up X-ray, I was discharged. I returned home around three in the afternoon, feeling unimaginably fatigued and sore. Currently, I lack the strength and motivation to create any new entries for my history of science blog, and it remains uncertain when “Renaissance Mathematicus” will resume its regular updates. Prior to this incident, I had completed a blog post intended for release on October 8th, which I will share soon, but I expect a hiatus of several more weeks.
Take this as a serious caution: DO NOT SMOKE. Although I quit thirty-five years ago, during my younger days, I heavily indulged in strong black tobaccos and cannabis. Now, these last few weeks serve as a long-overdue consequence for that previous recklessness.