Yeah, it’s a strange and scary thing; I was in my early thirties, extremely athletic, very energetic, and - like many kids before me - utterly full of myself.
Within a day or two I was humbled and semi-conscious in a bed slick with sweat - mine - and fighting for breath.
Luckily a friend stuffed me in her car and hauled me off to the hospital, where they gave me liberal handfuls of antibiotics (I can’t remember which one) and I spent about a month in bed.
It was a very nasty time.
I've actually paid a woman for this kind of treatment.