Katie Doyle, Girl About Town

Saturday, Mar. 20, 2004 - 4:26 p.m.

I have met the enemy and got. My. Ass. Kicked.

It was The Plague, people. Black, White, Yellow, Red or otherwise, there is no other way to describe it. It swooped in on fetid wings and clobbered me when I wasn't even looking, cluelessly going on my merry way until I was blindsided by a big ol' #10 size canna whupass. Maybe it was the wine. I told you people it wasn't good to leave a bottle of wine in the trunk of your car during a heat wave, but did I listen? Oh, noooooooo. No, I did not. And 24 hours later, as I sat at my computer here in the batcave, I started to ache. I felt less than well. My insides turned to jelly and my bones decided to swell and fester and KILL me. But I finished my shift, because I am a trooper. I even told my quiet little coworker when she asked, "yeah, I'll be here tomorrow." And I went out to my tiny little car and drove home, and every mile hurt more and more, so that I decided to pass on stopping at the drugstore for cold meds and just went home to writhe in pain without acetamenophen. Which I don't recommend. I took some Alkaseltzer Plus, which has a mere total of 500mg of acetamenophen a dose (normally something I espouse) and went to bed. For 48 straight hours, I ached in every single bone and joint from my shoulders to my ankles except for my fingers. I ached so much that when I sporadically slept, I dreamed of being in pain. It hurt to move. It hurt to lie still. It hurt to bend my legs. It hurt when they were straight. And standing up?

Wow.

People, I am telling you, it *hurt*. I even got delirious at one point, which I remember, because I actually thought wacky things like my bed was a giant nest, and then freaked out because I realized that was someone else's delusion that I had been mocking earlier in the week, and I realized that now that I was awake, I was still thinking really bizarre thoughts and hallucinating a little, I was freezing to death under my sheet, 2 blankets and a comforter on a hot night, and part of me went "you know, you should probably take your temperature, missy," but I didn't until the morning, when I felt much less muddle-headed and was no longer freezing OR delusional, and then it was 102.3. It stayed at 102 for all that day, and I thought "hm, maybe I should go to the doctor," but I completely discarded that idea, as I hurt so much, the mere thought of pulling on clothes and actually moving, let alone sitting in an office waiting to be seen, was really unbearable...not to mention that fact that every time I stood up, I started to black out. And I had my Alkaseltzer Plus, so I popped that every 4 hours and stubbornly dug in every time TB suggested I should go see a doctor. I'm a farmgirl damn it. We do not flee to the doctor's with every tiny ailment. No sir, not us. Especially when there's not all that much in our bank account as it is, and now we're missing an entire week of work, which we will NOT be paid for. Plus, did I mention sitting in the doctor's office waiting to be seen was a really sucky thought with the amount of pain I was in? Call me a wimp, baby, I do not care. As a sidebar, btw, when your temp is that high, all the veins in your feet stand out and are really, really visible. It's really pretty freaky and kind of makes you look like something out of the X-Files. In case you were wondering.

Sometime in the middle of that second night, nausea joined forces with the pain, and *that* was something super special. But by the next day, my temp dropped to 101 - 101.5, and most of the pain faded. Hallelujah. Now I just had a pounding headache and nausea to contend with. And the realization that if someone were to examine me and inform me I were dying, I would have been rather relieved to know there was an end in sight. I told TB I don't know how people with cancer do it. They are heroes, all of them.

That night, I ate my first food. French fries from In-and-Out. They were nice and just innocuous enough. The next 2 days, my temp was down to 100 - 100.8. Then down to 99.x, and now here I am, trying to make up for lost wages. Still feeling like crap, but not dead.

I think. It's kinda hard to tell.

Peace out,
Katie

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