Tubing September 7, 2011

Well, hello there, friend. Long time.

One of us (ME!) took a nice little sojourn to the hospital for a week. Right after the 4th of July, I started spiking these insanely high fevers. When I say insane, I mean that’s exactly how it made me feel. Words would swirl in the air, I saw sounds- and I wasn’t even at Lolapoloza! Weeee! Michael took me to the ER July 5th, and I had a 105 degree fever. Twas’ so high, they were concerned that my brain would boil itself. How cute- unconsciously cooking. The Dr.’s ran a plethora of tests- and “found nothing”. So I was sent home with antibiotics and an ice pack- you know- in case my brain starting cooking itself again.

Fast forward to last week, the end of August. For a month now, I had been feeling like I was at 40%. I was throwing up all the time like a cocker spaniel and all I wanted to do was sleep. Then the fevers came back. Mike grew concerned after I informed him that the word “glitter” does not in fact sparkle when you say it. Many rolled eyes and furrowed brows later I was back in the ER. Turns out the last time I was there, in July, they had found an infection but had not informed me of it- or treated it. Way to go white coats! The infection apparently threw a month long party and invited friends and friends of friends- literally almost killing me. I’m all for a party, but not that kind! They admitted me to the hospital where I got to stay in a lovely state of semi medicated consciousness. I was diagnosed with a blood infection, visa vie my liver, visa vie my bladder & kidneys- all gross organs I do not like talking about. It was painful and spooky. The week past by as a blur.  Nurses would come in, I would see them as colorful fuzz. I had multiple tubes in every arm, which was possibly the most annoying thing I have ever experienced. I would try to sleep on my side and alarms would go off, sending teams of nurses and doctors in. Sleeping in a hospital is impossible. When I did finally get to sleep, this woman I named Mosquito, would come in and try to take blood. I say try, because she rarely was successful- after the literal 20th time of stabbing me, she would give up and leave. My veins are not meant to be stabbed, just seen and admired through my friggen transparent flesh. The fever went down, and I started feeling a bit better. I watched entirely too much day time TV- to the point I started hating humanity. Dr. Oz & Tyra Banks are absolute shit. Sorry for the “s-word”, but they really are. I watched more Judge shows and commercials for hearing aids than I ever cared to.  After 4 days of tubing & Tyra, I got to go home. My arms now revel those of Keith Richards circa 1970, bruises and scars as far as the eye can see. Vunderbar! Hopefully now I won’t have to go back there, ever- and this is the end of the month long health hell.