Pneumonia

by Allen Hackworth���

W ow.� What a month.� We are at midterm, the end of an eight-week period.� For five of the eight weeks, I have had the hardest health struggle of my married life.� My problem started because of a motorcycle ride, 130 miles, taken with five other friends.� Four of the friends took children, and the group of ten headed for the mountains of Island Park.� In the group was Jerry, my brother, and his son, Mark.� The day was clear; everything looked beautiful.� I enjoyed the ride immensely; however, as the sun lowered in the west, the mountain air became chilled.�

All of the other bikers had windshields, but my bike had none.� Consequently, I felt the wind chill more than anyone in the group.� By the time I reached St. Anthony and stopped at my parent�s home, I felt cold and uncomfortable.� But I did not think much about it.� Yet after I started from St. Anthony to Rexburg in the dark, I bitterly felt the cold.� My body began to shake painfully, and a few miles out of St. Anthony, I knew I was in trouble.� Yet I had little choice but to keep going.� I suffered greatly in the next fifteen miles.� Perhaps foolishly, yet desperately, I pushed my speed up to 85 miles per hour, wanting to get home to a steaming tub of hot water.

The next day, I was seriously ill.� And for the next five weeks, I fought a death struggle with pneumonia.� Now I am almost better, and I know I will live.� I thankful and happy.� Many prayers were said by my family members, and I�m most thankful for that.� I felt their love.� But I am also thankful for antibiotics.� They too saved my life.

A particularly hard challenge was keeping my classes going during this period.� Although I missed a few classes, I taught many day when I was living in hell.� The illness humbled me, and it drew me closer to God.� So in that sense, some good came from the experience.