Robert (Bro. Pepper-spray of Reasoned Discussion) (montecristo) wrote,
Robert (Bro. Pepper-spray of Reasoned Discussion)

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The Rock-n-roll-monia and the Boogie-woogie flu

Monday, Monday, can't trust that day

Last Sunday, on the 19th, in morning I felt much better, and this had continued from then through Monday morning. I had been hoping that this meant that I had this infection on the run, as long as I avoided jacking my blood sugar. The fever was gone again, and it wasn't the result of acetaminophen. I hadn't taken any since last Saturday night. What could have been better? Well, the infection could have been gone, for a start. It wasn't. Late in the day Monday, my fever started coming back. It was warm at noon on Monday. I went for my noon walk. The weather web site says it was 80° F. It felt hotter than that. The map did show 85° up by the Estuary marinas, where I walk. It was bright and sunny. Things seemed to be going well.

Monday night is when the fever returned. I developed a low-grade 102° F fever and took some Tylenol for it and that made it recede. I was thinking that it was the pizza rolls which Shannon and I shared while watching a movie that had caused the bacteria to rally after it had seemingly been on the ropes all day long. I resolved to go to Urgent Care when they opened Tuesday morning at 10 AM. On Tuesday, after a long wait and a urine sample given, the doctor there prescribed a 500 mg tablet of Ciprofloxacin, every 12 hours for five days. Shannon and I went for a late lunch at IHOP and then picked up the prescription.

Wednesday morning, after I had been taking the cipro, I felt better and went into work. Unfortunately, the morning's good feelings didn't last. By the afternoon, I was feeling feverish again. I attributed the return of the fever this time to sampling Shannon's blow-your-head-off-with-chocolate mocha that morning. I took some Tylenol again, and that started to take the edge off of the fever and chills, but I still couldn't concentrate and took the afternoon off. By evening, there was a lull in the fever. Around dinner time, I was starting to feel OK again. This time I was very careful to eat no sweets or other sugary foods. After the Tylenol wore off though, the fever came back, with a vengeance.

I was in my bedroom when it started coming on. I put on my bathrobe over my shirt and pants and crawled under a blanket, because I started feeling chills again. Apparently, Shannon felt the need to check on me and came into my room sometime around eight, I think. She tells me that she saw me talking to a picture of Laurel on my computer. How embarrassing. I don't remember that part. I do remember when I woke up enough to get the thermometer Shannon brought me and take my temperature. The thermometer said 104.3° F. OK. Yes, I have been known to hallucinate at that temperature. It was time to go to the ER and see what in the hell was going on with me.

So, Shannon and I discovered that there is no emergency room in Livermore. What is with this town?! My bank just closed a branch here as well, and Shannon complains that there is not much in the way of groups doing things and nobody seems to know where to find some hobby groups or other interest groups in which to participate. Sheesh. There are eighty thousand people in this burgh; one would think Livermore would support more social and service amenities than it does. What gives, Livermore? At any rate, the emergency room is in the hospital in next door Pleasanton, so she drove me over there. We stopped for gas and bought three cold bottles of water to drink on the way.

When we got to the ER, they asked me a bunch of questions and took my blood pressure (which was good) and temperature. After drinking two liters of the cold bottled water, my temperature had dropped to 102.2° F. They gave me 1000 mg of Tylenol and then set about finding a room to examine me. After that, I got the whole adventure. I hate those stupid hospital night-shirts. Those things are really hard to tie behind your back. Fortunately, they were OK with me keeping my pants on. Eventually, I did manage to get at least two of the three ties, the two at the top, secured, which was a plus. Anyway, they got another urine sample from me and commenced testing. So, several long-standing conditions changed that evening. For one thing, outside of when I was born, I have never been in a hospital as a patient. That was a first. More dispiriting: the first time my dick has been touched by someone other than me in about eleven years and it had to be a blue-gloved male doctor to break that streak. ACK! What do they say? Yeah, FML. HA. Then came more fun. They drew some blood, of course, and started an IV, which seems to be de rigueur for any hospital visit more complex than a hang-nail.

After an hour or so, during which they kept taking my blood pressure and temperature, the doctor came in and told me what I already pretty much knew: bladder infection. So what kind of bacteria and from where in the hell did it come? Doctors can be remarkably clever in being circumspect and difficult to nail down with questions. He told me that they were still running tests and they put a bunch of Rocephin in the IV. The doctor said that they were going to prescribe a 500 mg capsule of Keflex, to be taken every six hours for five days, and that I was to stop taking the Ciprofloxacin. The tests would establish that they were prescribing the right stuff to do the job. He also told me that when I got out of the hospital, to start taking 1000 mg of Tylenol every eight hours or so, and to also pop 400 mg of Advil every eight hours, offset four hours from the Tylenol. This was to keep the fever down. The doctor told me that after they released me, I should rest for a couple of days and watch to see if the symptoms came back (like the fever) or to see if I experienced any side-effects from the Keflex. They started me off with a big old whopping dose of ibuprophen, on top of the acetaminophen they'd given me when I came in. Meanwhile, they went back to taking my temperature and blood pressure every half hour.

Eventually, after midnight Thursday morning, one of the vital-signs checks found my fever to be down to 100° F. Shannon and I had been conversing for most of the time since they started the IV. I had her come back because there to the room because there really wasn't anything for her to do in the waiting room, and I wanted the company. Heh. So, I'm lying there wondering just how much longer they're going to keep me there and she breaks into Billy Joel's "Piano Man," and I joined her for a duet. Too funny.

Also around this time, my cousin called me on the phone. She was not sober and was upset and vaguely suicidal because her ex-husband had started dating someone else. Oh Great Hod. I do feel for her. She has scads of damage and a childhood that makes mine look rather idyllic. Unfortunately, dealing with her tends to get my hackles up. I find a bunch of my own guardians getting agitated trying to deal with her self-castigation and self-defeat, and the way she interacts with her daughters. I wish she would get help. So, I told Lisa that I was in the ER and gave her a capsule view of what had been going on with me. I should have known better. After I hung up, she decided that she needed to talk to her aunt, and now she had a pretext for calling my mother at 4 o'clock in the morning, to share her "news," and of course, her misery. Shit. I didn't know that she had called my mother, at the time.

Sometime a bit after 1 AM they found my temperature to be 98.8° F, and sent me home. Shannon and I had not eaten all day, so we stopped at a McDonalds nearby for some late sandwiches on the way back to the house. While we were at McDonalds, Lisa called again. This is how I found out that she had called my parents. Apparently, my parents did not have Shannon's phone number and wanted it from Lisa, who called to get it from me. Obviously, she did not tell my parents that she had been talking to me directly or else they could have called me. They didn't. How could they not have known though, that Lisa was talking to me? She couldn't have been talking to Shannon or else Lisa would have had Shannon's number! At any rate, now I had to call my parents and straighten things out and give them an update when I would rather have gone home and slept. I was not happy, and I let Lisa know it. She was oblivious to having done anything untoward. Her boundaries are entirely dysfunctional. Why do I not de-FOO the entire mess again? Right. I'm still learning.

I took sick days on Thursday and Friday. On Thursday morning, Shannon and I went out and filled the Keflex prescription and I was taking that and Tylenol and Advil around the clock until I ate the last Keflex capsule yesterday at six AM. I went to work Monday and Tuesday of this week. I haven't seen any symptoms since I got out of the ER, so that is a plus. It looks like the antibiotics got it, whatever it was, although I would like to know what the hell it was and from where it came. I've got to see about getting myself a regular doctor.
Tags: day in the life, sick broken or on fire

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