Train Wreck, Line Two
So now that I can at least marginally see straight again, let me tell you what's been going on around here lately.Before I tell you this story, let me acknowledge up front that I don't have any real problems. I know plenty of people whose best day is less fun than my worst day. So even though the last week has totally sucked, I don't forget that in the big picture, it doesn't mean anything.
A week ago on Saturday, Eli 6.6 wasn't feeling well. Gloria took him to the doctor that morning, and based on his symptoms, the doctor thought that he might have the flu.
They had, of course, run out of the flu test that morning, because so many people had the flu.
The doctor decided to treat it like the flu and gave him a prescription for Tamiflu, which worked minor miracles. It took a few days, but Eli got better each day, and he was in good spirits the whole time. We played a lot of Super Mario Galaxy together, which we both really enjoyed, and by last Thursday, he went back to school.
That was also the day that my throat felt pretty sore. No big deal--that happens sometimes with my allergies.
When I woke up Friday morning, I felt like a truck had run me over. If you've ever run a marathon and know how sore you feel the next morning, triple that. It was incredible. I practically had to crawl out of bed into the shower. Hot flashes, chills, aches.
My doctor only works half a day on Friday, and I couldn't get in two weeks before with two days notice, so I didn't even bother calling him. I just went back to bed.
Friday night, I did the following for nine hours:
--almost fall asleep for about 1-2 minutes
--cough
--change position
--repeat 500 times
Saturday morning, Gloria (correctly) said that I needed to go see a doctor, even if it was doc-in-a-box, because he could give me a prescription for Tamiflu.
So I did, and the doctor gave me a flu test that consisted of him putting a q-tip so far up my nose that another two inches and it would have been coming out of my ass. Then he came back in ten minutes later and said the test was negative and that I had a rhinovirus (cold). No Tamiflu, but he gave me an antiobiotic to prevent a secondary infection.
Just a cold. Boy, I felt silly.
I called Gloria from the car, and she said she was on her way to take Gracie (the world's smallest cat) to the vet because she had a two-inch gash in one of her legs.
Two-inch gash? On Gracie, that's practically half of her leg.
Well, hell, I just have a cold, right? So I volunteered to meet them at the vet, because Eli had a birthday party that morning where he got to paint a ceramic craft and have it fired (and believe me, he was excited about it).
I met them at the vet, and when I actually got to see the gash, I was shocked. I could see muscle. We had no idea how it happened (a stray claw from George was the most likely candidate, although he wouldn't have done it on purpose). The vet told me she'd have to sedate her to clean out the area and sew her back up, and she was going to have to wear one of those plastic collars for at least a week.
That's a relief, because it's not like Gracie is the most neurotic cat in the word or anything. Oh, wait a minute...
I have to leave her at the vet for several hours, then I went back to pick her up. I still felt completely horrible, but I was just kind of dragging through.
So Gracie got home--and proceeded to totally freak out. Every time that plastic collar bumped into something, she'd jump about three feet into the air. Actually, if she hadn't been injured, it would have been really funny. But it wasn't.
Saturday night, Gracie wound up tearing a nail out of her paw because she was so freaked out. Gloria took her to the emergency vet, who kept her overnight.
I woke up Sunday morning and still felt absolutely horrible. Slept about two hours Saturday night, which gave me three hours in two days.
Gloria picked up Gracie, now with a flexible collar. She was still so freaked out that we wound up just taking it off, which meant that we had to follow her around constantly to make sure she wasn't chewing on the bandage.
Eli came back from his Granny's and how HE wasn't feeling well again, and he had a fever.
Monday morning, Gloria took Eli back to the doctor--and he had strep. Good freaking grief. She also took Gracie back to the vet, because the bandage had to be changed, but they had to sedate her (again) to do it, because she went crazy in the examing room.
Gracie, not Gloria. I think.
This whole time, I'd gotten basically ten hours of sleep in four days, and I still felt like death. But with Eli sick and Gracie injured, there was no slack for me to rest during the day.
This morning, I went to my real doctor, who listened to my description of symptoms for the last four days and said "You have the flu."
Well, that explains a lot of damn things.
He also said that if quack-in-a-box had listened to my symptoms, he would have known that they were totally incompatible with having a cold, and he would have prescribed Tamiflu, which would have made a huge difference. Thanks for that.
I do feel better today, so I'm definitely on the back side of this, but damn! I haven't had the flu in at least fifteen years, and I had totally forgotten how it can just *uck you up beyond all reason.
So I'm a bit better, Eli 6.6 is much better, and Gracie is going back to the vet. Again.
Gloria should have strep any day now, I'm guessing. And if you hear a train crashing into something, no worries--it's just us.
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