I'm either going to die, or I'm going to be perfectly fine

On Friday, my next door neighbor died.

Well, I should say, on Friday, the police discovered my next door neighbor's body. They estimated that he'd been dead for a week or a week and a half (in bed, with no signs of foul play). It was all very NYC: the police knocked on his door, then my door, then they crawled through my fire escape into his bedroom. The rest of the day was a blur of paramedics, more police, and a terrible smell as they aired the apartment out. Now there's a police notice taped over the door.

And then, because I'm a terrible person, I live tweeted the whole thing while peering out my front door (and trying to peer into his).*

The police just knocked on my door and asked to climb over my fire escape to my neighbor's house, where they found him dead, in his bed.
— Tracy M. (@Nemtynakht) March 1, 2013

We had noticed a smell, but he’s kinda smelly ordinarily
— Tracy M. (@Nemtynakht) March 1, 2013

They just sent an ambulance here. From the look on the super’s face after he saw him, there will be no revival.
— Tracy M. (@Nemtynakht) March 1, 2013

@hmgiraffy we’ve been going back and forth btw creeped out and wondering what his apartment looks like
— Tracy M. (@Nemtynakht) March 1, 2013

The police just said, “yeah, there are all sorts of little critters in there” (in the apt with the dead body). Explains the roach we saw.
— Tracy M. (@Nemtynakht) March 1, 2013

So it was rather ironic that I woke up Saturday morning not feeling very well. Specifically, I had bad joint pain, the likes of which I'd never before experienced. Thinking back on my week, I had been exhausted all week. And there were two days of splitting headaches. And I nearly fainted at work on Thursday. But that was just low blood pressure, right? Dr. Google quickly confirmed what I suspected: lupus. Or rheumatoid arthritis. Or maybe HIV. (I've been tested for all three of these fairly recently and I don't have any of them, for what it's worth.)

By Saturday afternoon, walking up stairs was difficult. By Sunday morning, I needed to hold on to the bathtub to lower myself onto the toilet seat. There was pain involved. And a strange, guttural groaning/grunting combination that would have embarrassed me had it not been completely involuntary.

I contemplated urgent care, but I knew that blood tests would be involved and they'd just send me to my primary care physician for a check up. Uh, except I'm in between doctors right now - or, in the lingo of the career seeker, I'm transitioning into a new doctor. Thank you, ZocDoc, for getting me an appointment Monday afternoon with a new doctor.

She wasn't very reassuring. She said, and this is nearly a direct quote: "It could be lymphoma, or vasculitis. At your age? Lupus is a real concern. Or it could be a virus. Hm, let's hope for a virus." She drew some blood, pointed out that I was dehydrated, and sent me on my way with the typical "no news is good news" doctor send-off.

Point being, I'm not running at present. BUT! I'm going to be better soon. Or I could die. Probably I'll get better. Betting on my health, I signed up for a race and a fitness class-cum-comedy spectacle: on 26 May, I'll be doing the Dirty German Trail race (again) and this Sunday, I'll be taking a slacklining class at Brooklyn Boulders (NB: I can barely walk across a balance beam).

*What can I say? Real estate is a thing in NYC. Point in case: by noon the next day, I had an email from a friend asking for my landlord's information for when that apartment came up on the market.