Running commentary continues
When it got to the point today that I couldn't even swallow fluids, my grandfather took me back to the hospital. Shorter wait this time because the triage nurse let me cut in line when they determined that my throat was twice as swollen as it was when I was there yesterday. Still took about three hours though.
Anyway. They stole some of my blood and gave me a lot of really hardcore medication, all of which I'm on currently, and I think I kind of feel better but not really. I can sorta talk now, which is progress. Hopefully by tomorrow morning things will have improved because I'm getting really hungry but I still can't really swallow anything without a lot of effort and a lot of pain -- and I'm not THAT hungry yet.
For the record, I'd like to put it out there that there are few things lonelier than lying in a hospital bed waiting for a nurse to come take your blood, crying because you're too weak to do anything else. Getting home and starting to cry again and then having to stop because it hurts your throat and you can't breathe right is no cakewalk either. Grr.
The doctor turned out to be a nice guy, though. I liked him a lot better than the guy yesterday. He asked me to lie down so he could poke at my stomach and when he stopped I just kept lying there, and before he left he looked down at me for a moment and then smiled and stroked my hair in a fatherly way. Then he made a joke about hospitalizing me :P But really he was nice overall.
I'm not going to say what he thinks I have yet because it's ridiculous and I don't want it. They'll call with the results of the blood test sometime soon (I hope). Here's another thing I DON'T have, though, which I'm kind of glad about because it sounds nasty: peritonsular abcesses (sp?). Eew.
Had to skip another concert tonight. I think this is the worst time I've ever had at a Bach Festival. I don't feel sorry for myself when I say that; it's simply a fact. I'm considering not coming back next year, even though I know that, if healthy, I'd probably be able to enjoy myself somewhat more. (If this is still going on next summer I'm going to have to ask someone to just shoot me in the head and put me out of my misery. Yikes.) Here's another superlative because I'm in the mood...this whole experience is the worst pain I can ever recall having been in. I hear that the most pain anyone can be in is having to pass a kidney stone, though, so I do hope I never get the chance to find out what that's like.
Anytime you want to start working, Prednisone, you can just go right ahead...I won't complain. You too, Vicodin. Get to it please.
Or maybe they are already, I dunno. Well, the Vicodin at least. I feel weird. The Prednisone not so much because my throat is still swollen. Fucking immune system. Just kill the damn virus without giving me grief. ....and NOW I'm spiraling into self-pity so this entry is going to end right here.
Anyway. They stole some of my blood and gave me a lot of really hardcore medication, all of which I'm on currently, and I think I kind of feel better but not really. I can sorta talk now, which is progress. Hopefully by tomorrow morning things will have improved because I'm getting really hungry but I still can't really swallow anything without a lot of effort and a lot of pain -- and I'm not THAT hungry yet.
For the record, I'd like to put it out there that there are few things lonelier than lying in a hospital bed waiting for a nurse to come take your blood, crying because you're too weak to do anything else. Getting home and starting to cry again and then having to stop because it hurts your throat and you can't breathe right is no cakewalk either. Grr.
The doctor turned out to be a nice guy, though. I liked him a lot better than the guy yesterday. He asked me to lie down so he could poke at my stomach and when he stopped I just kept lying there, and before he left he looked down at me for a moment and then smiled and stroked my hair in a fatherly way. Then he made a joke about hospitalizing me :P But really he was nice overall.
I'm not going to say what he thinks I have yet because it's ridiculous and I don't want it. They'll call with the results of the blood test sometime soon (I hope). Here's another thing I DON'T have, though, which I'm kind of glad about because it sounds nasty: peritonsular abcesses (sp?). Eew.
Had to skip another concert tonight. I think this is the worst time I've ever had at a Bach Festival. I don't feel sorry for myself when I say that; it's simply a fact. I'm considering not coming back next year, even though I know that, if healthy, I'd probably be able to enjoy myself somewhat more. (If this is still going on next summer I'm going to have to ask someone to just shoot me in the head and put me out of my misery. Yikes.) Here's another superlative because I'm in the mood...this whole experience is the worst pain I can ever recall having been in. I hear that the most pain anyone can be in is having to pass a kidney stone, though, so I do hope I never get the chance to find out what that's like.
Anytime you want to start working, Prednisone, you can just go right ahead...I won't complain. You too, Vicodin. Get to it please.
Or maybe they are already, I dunno. Well, the Vicodin at least. I feel weird. The Prednisone not so much because my throat is still swollen. Fucking immune system. Just kill the damn virus without giving me grief. ....and NOW I'm spiraling into self-pity so this entry is going to end right here.