When I got home, I found that I was angry-- maybe because my vocal rehearsal went horribly, or because my VD had given me such stupid advice, or perhaps just because I felt the situation futile-- but I was seething. I was so fed up with being sick constantly. First it's a bacterial infection, then it's a cold that lasts longer than expected, then it's allergies, then it's a 2-week strain of Pneumonia, then this... what is WRONG with me! I am sick of throwing up all the time! I am sick of constantly being so congested that I can't sleep! I am SICK of being SICK!
In my fury I drove to Target and bought myself a bunch of healthy meals and One-A-Day vitamin supplements for women... and Ovaltine. THERE. THAT oughta do the trick. If this doesn't work then stick me in a plastic bubble and make me the next "Bubble Girl."
No, not that kind. But if you get the reference then kudos on being a cyber-loser.
That evening I was shivering; and even after I was bundled up in two blankets, sitting in front of a fire, and wearing my fleece guaranteed-to-stop-you-from-shivering sweater, I was still shivering. I couldn't sleep because my head hurt and I couldn't breathe out of my nose and my throat was swollen, so I took the next day off (yesterday).
That day, I checked into the Urgent Care at noon; fortunately, the wait was all of about 5 minutes. It was awful though. I felt the way an ant feels when you spray it with Raid (a compliment on Raid's behalf). A million and one nurses kept coming in and asking me questions... I thought it usually went I only had one? They were all nice, but none of them were named Paulette (as suggested by the dry-erase board on the wall that said, "Your nurse today is Paulette").
The doctor diagnosed me left and right... some were plausible, others were just absurd. Like when I went from sitting hunched over to laying down and my lower back hurt, he said I probably had a Urinary Tract Infection. But he was more on the money about was my tonsils, which hurt severely. He gagged me with a few Q-tips to check for Strep and Mono, but in the end I was diagnosed with Tonsilitis. I imagine it's like Apendicitis, only in your tonsils. The doctor's most prevalent concern was my high white blood cell count (what was he looking for, Puerto Rican blood cells?). Though unlikely, it was a possible indicator of Meningitis, a life-threatening disease that I know nothing about.
I was really dizzy from dehydration because I couldn't comfortably swallow anything (hey-o!), even water, so they put me on an IV. That was a first... feel free to congratulate me on losing my IV-irginity. I got a nice little needle-tube stuck in the underside of my elbow on my left arm. My nurse kept apologizing and saying, "I made a mess." I finally looked over, and a fairly decent-sized pool of my own blood was on the table. Awesome.
The IV made me cold because they were filling me up with stuff (is it just water?) that was at room temperature, and our bodies are warmer than that. The cool part of it is, hospitals keep blankets in a "blanket-warming" device and give them to you to keep you warm while you are hooked up to aforementioned IV. I had to be on it for a couple hours, so I tried some uncomfortable napping... that table they have you lay on always seems about a half-foot too short, doesn't it?
After a few hours, my IV and I were moved into a wheelchair and taken over to Radiology, where I got some chest x-rays that showed that I had a fairly obvious infection in my throat, but didn't give a thumbs up or down on the Meningitis, so the doctor sent me over to the Tri City Medical Hospital a few blocks over. There, I was supposed to get a CAT-scan and a Spinal Tap... which did not sound fun. Fortunately, the doctor there said a Spinal Tap would not be necessary. However, the CAT-scan machine was under maintenance and would take a while to repair. I was thinking along the lines of perhaps an hour... but we ended up waiting for that damned machine for about 3-4 hours. I slept, I read People Magazine, I blew green snot out of my nose, my dad just sat there; the only thing he'd been doing since we started this whole she-bang at noon.
Finally, FINALLY the CAT-scan machine was ready for me. After hours of waiting and one very annoying fake-out, I was ready to be put under that kitty.
I did not like the CAT-scan. It was unsettling. I was in a room all by myself, being mechanically slid in and out of a giant metal donut (slightly sexual in retrospect...). And the CAT-scan Man (I love a good rhyme, don't you?) put some weird stuff in my IV that hurt really bad when he put it in, and made my entire body feel uncomfortably warm. And just the fact that I was being subjected to radiation waves made me uneasy. There would be moments where I would completely flip out and be certain that my face was going to blow up, but they would pass within a second. There wasn't any physical pain that I felt (aside from the IV stuff), but I just sort of psyched myself out.
After the scan I spent another couple hours waiting for a woman to get my blood cultures, and then I would be able to go home. Mom and April stopped by, which is in my opinion the stupidest idea I've ever heard of because my Mom's presence makes me feel really crappy, like something has died and started to curdle in my stomach, and I already felt like something that had died and started to curdle. Given the option, I would prefer to NOT feel like something dead and curdling with something dead and curdling in its stomach. I pretended to be asleep so I wouldn't have to talk to her.
FINALLY I got the blood cultures and got out of the ER. I couldn't walk very fast and I was shivering uncontrollably. And with unbrushed hair and smeared, day-old mascara on my face I must've looked something like a crazy person.
At home I couldn't sleep, so I stayed up and watched Adult Swim. After going a whole day without eating, I found my hunger far surpassed the pain of swallowing food, and I had a couple bowls of cereal.
Today, I feel significantly better. I will admit it is a surprising one-day transition, but then again, I downed about 3 of those bags of IV fluid. Tomorrow is iffy as to whether or not I'll be going to class... if my road to recovery continues at a constant exponential (heck, let's get crazy! I'd even go as far as to say geometric) rate, I should be fine. But tomorrow is Friday. But if I go I have a whole week off next week to make up my assignments. But stuff will be due tomorrow which I have not done...
Screw you, Jane Austen. I refuse to read over 200 pages of you in one night.
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