Hejira
what I did today
April 11. 2000
a souvenir

Take a wild fucking guess.

I woke up feeling like a truck had run over me, but for some stupid reason got it in my head that I had to go to class. It was a stupid idea, because I was in there a half hour before Rebecca ordered me to the nurse.

I had tried to eat before class, that ended with me getting nauseous and running for the bathroom. I felt dizzy and light headed by the time I arrived at the nurse. My voice had gone to hell once again and I could barely talk.

The nurse determined I should be carted off the hospital again, because she suspected I was dehydrated (which was the case, I had not drunk anything for about a day and a half). Called Mom to inform her of the situation, got escorted by the Temple police to Abington Hospital. It was like a fucking replay of the week before last.

"Weren't you here two weeks ago? You look familiar..."

"Uh huh."

This time they went all out in making me look like a patient. Got the back closing hospital gown (joy) a souvenir bracelet (see above), my blood pressure taken more times than I could count, a needle stuck in my arm with various fluids dripping into me, numerous sharp instruments impaling my tonsils in search of an abcess that was supposedly residing there.

In the end, they still don't know exactly what's wrong with me. At first the doctor was certain it was a tonsular abcess (hence all the painful poking and prodding, which in the end, was no worse than any of the minor dental surgery I've had, I was just a big baby), but then another doctor came in and was absolutely sure it was mono. When I pointed out that the mono test I had had a mere two weeks ago was negative, he said something like, "Well, sometimes it takes a while for it to appear in the tests."

*sigh of frustration*

By this time Dad had arrived, and gave me a big hug and sat down looking alternately annoyed at the hospital surroundings and sympathetic to me. It was nice to have someone there, and this time I didn't freak out like I did two weeks ago. Now my main emotion was annoyance. Annoyance because I have so much work to do in the next two weeks, and this little medical situation was not helping the progress of any of it. Annoyed because I thought I was cured, and here it comes back again inexplicably bite me in the butt.

Once I was rehydrated intravenously, I felt a lot better. The nausea was gone, as was the dizziness. I still could not and would not look as the nurse put the needle in me or take it out...I have a thing with needles. I have been getting allergy shots for over 5 years...still can't look at them give it to me. You know that scene in "Pulp Fiction" where John Travolta shoots up? I have to close my eyes. Ugh.

They took another blood sample, tested it for mono. It came back negative. Back came the doctor who said he was absolutely sure I had mono. Okay, so now I had to take a culture to test for strep and staph infections. If those come back negative, then he's absolutely sure I have mono. Even though I tested negative for it. Twice. Go fig.

Yeah, I was little puzzled and confused by the time I left the hospital with Dad, but I trusted that he knew what was up. I now I have a bevy of pills to take in the morning, afternoon, evening and night. *sigh* Two different antibiotics, four times a day each, steriods (to keep the swelling down), a decongestant (2x a day), not to mention the multi vitamin, calcium and echanacea I have pledged myself to daily. I don't think I've ever been medicated this much in my life.

The rest of the day was pleasant, however. Dad and I went downtown to pick up some art supplies for me. We took the train down, which Dad was throughly amazed with ("I'm never driving downtown again!"). We ate at the Reading Terminal Market, which is a big farmer's market of sorts, with every kind of food you could possibly imagine.

Because of the swelling in my throat, I have been condemned to a liquid diet for the next week or so. Hopefully not that long. I now have more Dinty Moore soup and Gatorade in my room than I'll ever need.

Oh, but I do love Chef Boyardee...

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all writings, (c) 1999-2000, BRR