So my dear friend KY arranged for a “yay! you’re engaged” happy hour gathering with the work peeps, the BFE and I on Friday afternoon after work! It was so thoughtful and fun! We had a blast, and KY even provided us with cute little “Congrats!” balloons that she tied to our chairs. We took them home, and it felt like taking a little bit of this thoughtful celebration with us.
I left the balloons in the car overnight, and brought them into the house on Saturday afternoon. I let them float in the corner of my room even though the fan was running, using my bizarre logic that the wind from the fan would push them away, not draw them in.Comforted by that logic, I indulged in one of my favorite things to do: take off my pants and relax in bed while playing on pinterest and Facebook.
Five minutes later my wind blowing theory was proven wrong when my ceiling fan sucked up one of my “Congrats!” balloons, spinning it into a loud vibrating blur. I hopped up, and immediately turned off the fan. The vibrating noise of the balloon stopped, and I sniffed a burning smell. The balloon ribbon had fallen into the fanlight and burned. Standing on my bed, I reached into the fanlight to grab out the pieces of ripped-up ribbon, bringing bits of dust down on my head and face. And that’s how the BFE found me, standing on the bed, pantsless, covered in dust and holding bits of burned ribbon. Unsurprised, he just shook his head.
End of story, right? Wrong.
The next morning I woke up with a scratchy throat and difficulty swallowing. Assuming it was an allergic reaction to dust, I popped a couple of sinus pills and some advil and went about my day. As we worked on chores and other things, I slowly began to feel more and more run down. By the time we got done with grocery shopping that afternoon I had a miserable case of fever and chills that simply wouldn’t go away. I was starting to wonder if this was more than just allergies.
By 10 o’clock that night I could barely stand with all the muscle aches, head ache, nausea, and fever. My breath was coming out in spurts. I was burning up but freezing. BFE finally talked me into going to an urgent care facility. Naturally, by the time I said ok, they were all closed early because it was Sunday (does this make sense to ANYONE??? People still get sick on Sundays. So confused.). We stopped at a Walgreens so he could buy a thermometer and really check how high my temperature was.Turned out I was at a blazing 104 degrees. So straight to the Celebration Hospital ER we went.
Now, to date I’ve been to the hospital twice: once as a kid in the ER for a soccer injury when I was about 8, and again when I was about 20, 21 after a vicious dog attack ripped open my arm a bit. I haven’t ever had surgery, broken bones, catheters, none of the scary gritty parts of being in a hospital. So it was all a little nerve-wracking, but having BFE there to take care of me really helped. I cannot imagine what it would have been like going through this alone!
We actually weren’t there as long as I thought we’d be. I’ve heard scary stories about emergency rooms: it can take hours to be seen, the care is substandard, the nurses are pushy and rude. This was totally opposite from my situation. My nurse was so ridiculously nice, and the doctor was great. We were in a room and under the doctor’s care in less than an hour. I think the spiked temp might have expedited things. They quickly assessed that I had “strep syndrome”, and my symptoms were a sever reaction to my body trying to fight off the virus or whatever. After giving me some meds and fluids I was starting to feel less crazy and freaked out and not so shaky. Eventually I was released with instructions to stay home for a few days, get antibiotics and fluids in my system and rest. The toughest part of my ER visit? They would let me have a blanket, since this insulated heat and I needed to break my fever. Meanies.
One thing I learned in my ER trip was that I am a Terrible Patient. I hate being sick. I crack horrible jokes, I cannot pee in a cup upon demand, and I whine constantly for blankets. Once my fever broke I became a sweaty mess in my hospital bed, still full of aches, pains, a sore throat and whininess. BFE nodded knowingly as the nurse outed me as a Terrible Patient, as if he’d known this all along. Hmmph. Whatevs. Pass me my blankie yo.
So if you’ve noticed that I’ve been rather proliferate with blogging these past few days it’s because I’m a captive in my own home, and strep is my jailer. I needed a few days away from civilization to get the antibiotics in my system so I was no longer contagious. I also needed rest and re-hydration. Most of Monday I could barely talk, although by the afternoon I felt well enough to get out of bed. The hard part was feeling well enough to be bored, but easily worn out after attempting more than a five-minute conversation. I broke into a sweat just taking the trash to the curb.I am planning my “outbreak” tomorrow, when I return back to work. I can’t remember being so excited to clock in and sit at my desk. I’ll probably plan out my wardrobe this afternoon and wash my hair. Something about being sick always makes my hair look so busted. NO ONE looks cute when sick.
So people, if you’ve learned anything from this long rambly blog today, here are some highlights to take with you:
– When bring balloons int he house, anchor them to something immediately. Don’t let them roam around.
– Dust your fans off often.
– Wear pants while dusting off said fan.
– Know the hours that your local urgent care facility is open. It could mean the different between a $50 urgent care co-pay and a $100 emergency room visit fee.
– It’s better to be the Terrible Patient than the sad one. If you’re the Terrible Patient it means you’re probably closer to getting well because you have the capacity to crack jokes.
– Find yourself a wonderful BFE… you’ll know he’s the right one when he’s the only one you’d ever want in the hospital room with you as you’re sweating like a lathered racehorse and whimpering like a little b!tch.