Fighting the forces of Darkness...day by day

Hospital
The second time

I've told you before about the first time I went to the hospital.  It was both traumatic and inconclusive.  Also, and I forgot to mention this before, the doctor proscribed me with codeine, which I am allergic to.  If it wasn't for a good catch by the pharmacist, I might have gotten even sicker. 

The second time I went to the hospital was a lot more clear cut.

It was a Friday in late August.  At lunch, I went to Starbucks and sat outside, enjoying the sun.  I dragged myself back to work and propped myself in my cubicle, staring blankly at the computer screen.  My skin felt like it was on fire.  Crap, I must have gotten a sunburn, I thought.  When I attempted to type, my  hands shook so hard that I hit the wrong keys.

As the afternoon progressed, I noticed that my peripheral vision had narrowed and apparently there were fireflies in my office...hovering right in front of my face.  I slowly realized that maybe this wasn't a sunburn because mostly sunburns don't cause you to shake like a leaf, get dizzy and hallucinate.  At 3:00, I dragged myself out to my car and drove to the pharmacy.  Once there, I purchased a gallon of orange juice, a box of Sudafed and a bunch of tissues. I opened the oj in the parking lot and chugged about a quarter of the gallon while leaning on my car. 

I don't remember the drive home.  I remember that--when I arrived--I couldn't figure out how to open my garage door, so I just left my car in the driveway.  I also remember that when I opened the car door, I dropped my keys on the ground and it took me 10 minutes to find them (they were literally right under the door but at that point, my brain wasn't functioning even a little bit).  The time from the cash register to my driveway was gone completely.  I'm fairly certain that I didn't kill anyone.  There weren't any dents on my car.

Once I found the key, I staggered to my front door.  I couldn't make the key work.  I poked it repeatedly at the little hole, scraping the hell out of my door frame.  I made it to my staircase before my legs stopped working.  I literally crawled up the stairs, pausing to rest for several minutes in the landing.  At the top, I managed to drag myself to my feet again and made it all the way to my bedroom.  I stripped out of all my clothes and collapsed on the bed.  My cellphone was clutched in my hand because I hoped that I could call 911 if I started to die. 

Time got a little hazy for a while.  I remember waking up after the first time I passed out and calling my parents.  I babbled hallucinogenic nonsense at them for a while until they suggested that taking my temperature might be a good idea.  Telling someone who couldn't figure out how to open her door that she has to find wherever the thermometer is hidden is kind of like telling a normal person to find the holy grail.

I finally found the thermometer and took my temperature.  105.6.  Hm.  That seemed a bit high.  I retested with the same results.  I dropped the thermometer and it rolled under the bed.  I couldn't successfully pick it up.  Holding the thermometer wasn't the worst part; I couldn't even hold a thought.  Seeking medical advice, I called my doctor's office.  It was closed but the night-nurse suggested several things that I could try to get my fever down.

I drank a lot of fluids and dumped my scalding self into a bathtub filled with frigid water.  Amazingly, the neighbors did not come over to see why I screamed bloody murder.  This made me wonder what would happen if I had a home invader.  Once the water had heated to a bearable temperature, I took my temperature again.  105.7. 

I called my friend Ryan to take me to the hospital.  I lived really close but since the last driving experience had ended with me losing about 10 minutes, I didn't feel it was a good time to get behind the wheel.  About one minute before Ryan arrived, I realized that clothes might be an important part of going to the hospital.  I grabbed the three closest things to me.  When Ryan arrived at my house, I was wearing light blue running shorts, a brown tank-top that goes under a jacket with work clothes and a purple sweater shaped like a blazer.  It's still about the single most ridiculous thing that I've ever worn.  Oh, also a pair of flip flops that I used to wear to take showers in college.

I think Ryan had to help me into his truck.  At that point, I'd had to master the stairs again and a light breeze could have knocked me down.  I remember saying words to him...I don't know if those words made any sense.  We arrived at the ER and Karla (Ryan's wife and a nurse) came down to meet us.

I think I waited around for a while but I have no memory of it at all.  I do remember taking off and putting on the sweater as I alternated between fever and chill. 

I got my very first IV when I finally got to the doctor.  They managed to chill me to about 100 degrees.  I was told that I must have some unseasonal flu (in hindsight, this was when H1N1 was just beginning, so I suppose it could have been that).  I was instructed to drink fluids and if my temperature went above 104, to take more ice-baths. 

Ryan dropped me at my condo and escorted me up the stairs.  He also pulled my car into the garage because at this point, I was so exhausted my eyes wouldn't stay open.  For the next week, my fever never went below 102...it usually hovered at around 103.  I had to take 3 ice baths, but lucky they all worked.  I went back to work after spending 10 days straight in bed.  The only reason I went back was because my other option was short term disability.

On my first day back to work, I dragged myself into professional clothes (which no longer fit because I'd lost 10 pounds).  I staggered down the stairs, careening off the walls and made it to my car.  The garage door opener was broken.  I made several inventive promises of future good deeds to God.  The door still didn't work.  I dragged the door up and went back to get into my car.  I was met with an acrid cloud of pungent decay.  The scent of rotten orange juice overwhelmed me.  Turns out, I'd forgotten all about the groceries purchased on my way home from work when I fell ill. 

I drove to work in the 95 degree sauna that is Florida in August with the car windows open and the AC turned up to 11.  It wasn't pleasant but I stayed conscious the whole drive this time.