mo' no, mo' problems
I used to think it would be really funny to have some sort of "marker" on members of the queer community. Like they have for dolphins. You know, just some sort of way of knowing who'd been with whom, a sort of physical The Chart, if you will.
Well, friends, it appears I got my wish, to some extent-- I guess you get what you ask for. It's called Infectious mononucleosis, and I've got it, confirmed as of 3:05 pm today by the fine folks at Northfield Hospital.
You see, I had been feeling moderately to very crappy the last few days, and went to the Wellness Center here for a little look-see. My sweet-as-could-be nurse looked into my tonsils, promptly informed me that they were covered with pus--which, believe you me, is quite possibly the last thing you want to imagine inside your throat, apart from, say, cockroaches or something, and told me that it was either strep or mono. So she popped in the little strep test, let it do whatever it is little quickie strep tests do, and, voila, within five minutes we knew that I didn't have strep. GULP. (gulping actually hurts-- so, OW.)
If not strep, then, I was off to the Northfield Hospital, which is a super-fancy-schmancy hospital plunked, literally, in the middle of sprawling farmland. This means that the hospital is exactly as bright 'n shiny as you would imagine, decked out with the absolute Minnesota Nicest nurses and lab techs, and with the cleanest floors I've ever seen in the hospital. Seriously, they should fly people from New Jersey hospital ER's out to the Northfield Hospital, because I was the only fucking one there. Crazy.
Anyway, so then the test came back some three hours later, with the blood results and all, and my lymph nodes have made it official: I am now a card-carrying member of the Kissing Disease Club, badass hospital wristband and all. And, given the fact that this little virus has been stealthily hiding out in me for five to six weeks prior to this--and the Rainbow Retreat was four weeks ago--and we played Spin the Fucking Bottle--the whole situation sort of has the air of a Shakespearean comedy. Oops.
But, uh, regardless... I've drawn up a few positives and negatives of my status as one of the Mighty Monoed:
DRAWBACKS:
1) Did I mention there was pus covering my tonsils? Yeah. It's sort of nasty. Don't think about it for too long.
2) Also, I've been instructed not to go on this awesome event, which royally blows.
3) I can only go on the elliptical or the bike, and on "slow mode." SUCK. Particularly because it's freakin' 45 degrees here in Minnesota, aka Perfect Running Weather and I, the mono-ed, cannot go running. Boo.
4) I'm sort of getting freaked out by the number of people constantly telling me that my spleen will go batshitcrazy any moment now. Stay with me, little spleeny! Also, that sounds painful.
5) Pretty Woman Syndrome, aka being discouraged from kissing. BOO. So I can choose from my life becoming (a) a PG movie or (b) a night as a hooker who doesn't want to get emotionally involved. Not-so-score.
BENEFITS:
1) Gnarly excuse for not doing anything that I don't feel like doing. Tired? Bored? Getting out of anything is as simply as saying these four simple words: "Sorry, I've got mono." Witness the crowds stunned and defeated. Bam.
2) I have official medical advice from healthcare professionals to eat like a three year-old: apples juice, jello, pudding and ice-pops you say? Man, that's gonna be tough!
3) "Mono" is a very popular prefix. Get ready for me to monogamously ride the monorail into punning monopoly!
Yours in throat cultures and bedrest,
Beth
Well, friends, it appears I got my wish, to some extent-- I guess you get what you ask for. It's called Infectious mononucleosis, and I've got it, confirmed as of 3:05 pm today by the fine folks at Northfield Hospital.
You see, I had been feeling moderately to very crappy the last few days, and went to the Wellness Center here for a little look-see. My sweet-as-could-be nurse looked into my tonsils, promptly informed me that they were covered with pus--which, believe you me, is quite possibly the last thing you want to imagine inside your throat, apart from, say, cockroaches or something, and told me that it was either strep or mono. So she popped in the little strep test, let it do whatever it is little quickie strep tests do, and, voila, within five minutes we knew that I didn't have strep. GULP. (gulping actually hurts-- so, OW.)
If not strep, then, I was off to the Northfield Hospital, which is a super-fancy-schmancy hospital plunked, literally, in the middle of sprawling farmland. This means that the hospital is exactly as bright 'n shiny as you would imagine, decked out with the absolute Minnesota Nicest nurses and lab techs, and with the cleanest floors I've ever seen in the hospital. Seriously, they should fly people from New Jersey hospital ER's out to the Northfield Hospital, because I was the only fucking one there. Crazy.
Anyway, so then the test came back some three hours later, with the blood results and all, and my lymph nodes have made it official: I am now a card-carrying member of the Kissing Disease Club, badass hospital wristband and all. And, given the fact that this little virus has been stealthily hiding out in me for five to six weeks prior to this--and the Rainbow Retreat was four weeks ago--and we played Spin the Fucking Bottle--the whole situation sort of has the air of a Shakespearean comedy. Oops.
But, uh, regardless... I've drawn up a few positives and negatives of my status as one of the Mighty Monoed:
DRAWBACKS:
1) Did I mention there was pus covering my tonsils? Yeah. It's sort of nasty. Don't think about it for too long.
2) Also, I've been instructed not to go on this awesome event, which royally blows.
3) I can only go on the elliptical or the bike, and on "slow mode." SUCK. Particularly because it's freakin' 45 degrees here in Minnesota, aka Perfect Running Weather and I, the mono-ed, cannot go running. Boo.
4) I'm sort of getting freaked out by the number of people constantly telling me that my spleen will go batshitcrazy any moment now. Stay with me, little spleeny! Also, that sounds painful.
5) Pretty Woman Syndrome, aka being discouraged from kissing. BOO. So I can choose from my life becoming (a) a PG movie or (b) a night as a hooker who doesn't want to get emotionally involved. Not-so-score.
BENEFITS:
1) Gnarly excuse for not doing anything that I don't feel like doing. Tired? Bored? Getting out of anything is as simply as saying these four simple words: "Sorry, I've got mono." Witness the crowds stunned and defeated. Bam.
2) I have official medical advice from healthcare professionals to eat like a three year-old: apples juice, jello, pudding and ice-pops you say? Man, that's gonna be tough!
3) "Mono" is a very popular prefix. Get ready for me to monogamously ride the monorail into punning monopoly!
Yours in throat cultures and bedrest,
Beth