I'm baa-aaaack

It's been a pretty wild week or so, but I'm sitting down now, catching my breath and filling in the world on what's been happening.

A week ago Monday, I was sitting at my desk after work and began to feel crappy. As the afternoon wore on, my throat started to swell, my gland in my neck began to swell, white spots began erupting in my throat and I started to feel feverish. No nausea, so I knew I was coming down with strep throat.

Great. (This is sarcasm.)

I stopped at Walgreen's on the way home and picked up a thermometer, and my temperature had climbed above 101 degrees. I knew it was time to go to the emergency room and get some antibiotics PRONTO!

My roommate dropped me off at Barnes-Jewish hospital, where I was told they had about a 10-hour backlog of patients, thanks to an outbreak of the flu.

Great.

After about 5 hours, I finally was called back to see a doctor. At this point, I also had a killer headache, and my neck was very stiff. So the doctor tells me he wants to do a spinal tap to rule out meningitis.

Great.

After a dose of atavan to calm my nerves, I get onto my right side and curl into the fetal position. He gets the needle in but stops because, he tells me, "I'm sorry, I need a longer needle."

Great.

So he gets the longer needle and proceeds to stick that into my spinal column. While the first time was not too bad, this needle kept grinding on my vertebrae and occasionaly brushing my spinal cord. Mind you, I am supposed to be holding perfectly still; that's a bit hard to do when you feel electricity shooting down your legs and an uncontrollable urge to kick.

Great.

So I went into a profanity-laced tirade, screaming at the doctor to get the needle out of my back. He complied, thank God, and told me of another option, this procedure involved a radiologist performing the spinal tap with the guidance of a fluoroscope. I opted to go ahead with that. Six hours later, they were wheeling me into the radiology lab to perform the THIRD spinal tap of the visit.

Great.

Several hours later, a new doctor, who didn't even introduce himself, came into the area where I was resting, asking if I had one of the vials of spinal fluid. Like I would have just carried that the hell out of the room. The vial apparently was located, for the test results came back a few hours later negative for meningitis. Praise the lord.

I got to go home, and I went straight to bed. They'd been pumping me full of antibiotics, so I wasn't feeling much of the strep throat at that point, although my back was pretty damn sore.

Wednesday morning, though, I woke up, feeling pretty well, actually, until I stood up. And then fell right back down, screaming from the pain of the worst headache I ever have felt in my life. I've had migraines before, but this was the worst thing I ever have felt. (I found out later that one or all of the spinal punctures Monday night/Tuesday morning had not sealed and my cerebrospinal fluid was draining into my back. Why is this serious? Well, it's the shit that holds your brain up. Kind of a big deal.)

Great.

As the day goes on, I start to become nauseous, and I started vomiting that night. And kept vomiting on through Thursday. I called my doctor, and he told me to get back to Barnes right away; he would arrange to have me admitted.

Great.

My friend Gabe took me to the hospital, and I eventually was taken to a room. After a night of fluids and next to no pain medication, my doctor arrived Friday morning. He saw how little pain medicine I was getting, and he immediately ordered more. Yay, doctor! I spent most of Friday drugged out of my mind.

Great. (Seriously, I mean that one. No sarcasm intended!)

Friday afternoon, I met with the anesthesiologist who would be performing yet another fluoroscope-guided lumbar puncture, this time to inject blood into the spinal column in hopes that it would clot and seal the leak in my back. Once completed, and once I had a GIANT bruise on my arm, I began to feel immediate relief. Of course, this meant that they discontinued my pain medication shortly thereafter.

Great. (Resume sarcasm.)

I felt even better Saturday, and I was able to come home that afternoon. My mom, who had come to sit with me at the hospital, brought me home. We watched a movie, and she went back to Hannibal. I got some rest, and woke up Sunday feeling still better. I tried to go meet some friends, though, at the City Diner for brunch, and when I walked in, the noise overwhelmed me and made me want to vomit. I had to turn right back around and leave.

Great.

I slept for a few hours, and I eventually went out for a bit Sunday night to meet those same friends. It was all right, but when it was time to go home Sunday night, it was time RIGHT FUCKING THEN.

Great.

I woke up Monday, feeling even better. Yay! Still nowhere near human, but I still managed to go in to work. I only stayed about a half day, though, and then came home and took a brief nap. I ended up going out for Chinese food with a friend, and was home and in bed by 9:30 p.m.

Great. Now I'm turning into my grandmother.

Woke up Tuesday morning, and I HAD NO HEADACHE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN NEARLY A WEEK! Feeling normal has never felt so good! I made my neighbor go out with me and one of my best friends last night to celebrate!

I'm following up with my real doctor tomorrow afternoon at his office, but right now, I feel fine. I'm hoping it stays that way!

Also, I need new windshield wipers.

Great.