on drugs and dying.

This week was not so fun, but judging from other people's facebook statuses i don't think i was alone in my illness this week. mine perhaps more than others turned me into a crazy drama queen. thus in an attempt to garner sympathy for Adam, i am telling you all this overly personal story.

Tuesday morning i awoke feeling weak, but didn't feel like i was running a fever. Thinking it was too early in the morning to be a complete woos, I went to get my cavity filled/repaired and came to work. this tooth has been the bane of my existence for a year now--it has taken 5 trips to 2 dentists in 2 states to get it properly done. love the new dentist in alaska--in and out in under 30 minutes, no pain, no Novocaine face.

By noon. i had chills and the lymphnodes on the right side of my body were large and weirdly sore. i've been on antibiotics for another thing, so it seemed strange to be sick on them. i had turned the heater on and off more times than i knew was possible to try and compensate for my constantly changing temperature. A quick search of webmd, coupled with my rash and bruising, left only one option--i was clearly dying of stage 4 cancer of any one of all equally horrid types. Since this was the case, there must only be hours left on earth and i should definitely spend it in bed reading Alice in Wonderland rather than staring at a computer screen having problems subtracting 3.5 from 5.

As i pulled into the parking lot at home i called my PA, Rachel, to ask if she thought i needed to come in. i got an appointment for 7:10 that night...tuesday is late night at the clinic, thank god. Neah looked thoroughly confused at my reappearance midday but clearly understood something was wrong because she promptly laid down and didn't get up again after i took her out and dramatically collapsed on the bed declaring to her in no dog-uncertain terms that i was dying.

By 6, when Adam came home to take Neah hiking, I had chills and everything ached. i informed him i was pretty sure it was cancer and he had better hurry home from his hike. as you can imagine, he doesn't believe in my powers of webmd.com, either. So, after muttering about ruing the day my husband left me dying to go on a hike with Matt, I packed myself into the car and arrived at the clinic about 20 minutes early. Fortuitously, they had been about to call me because of a cancelled appt before mine.

The first indication i wasn't crazy came from my blood pressure 129 over 86. Tachycardia. i am always 110 over 68-72. second was the fever...100.8. i am usually around low 98.something. We worked our way through everything....could this be mono? could this be strep? Rachel was 90% certain that all this might be a bad allergic reaction to the Septra i had been taking. Either that or it was the strangest virus ever. I told her i was still pretty certain that my Internet searching was right and i was dying of cancer.

However, after thorough inspection and a throat swab, the Septra was confiscated and off i headed toward the grocery store with a new prescription for Gatorade. i clumsily stumbled my feverish incoherent self around the grocery store, certain that if i was not dying of cancer then i was at least infecting everyone with the plague, searching for gatorade, a thermometer, and the chocolate almond milk Adam had made a point of mentioning i should get when i said i would have to go to the store after the doctor.

Armed with all this i went home, curled up on the sofa, compulsively checked my temperature and prepared for imminent demise.

Then, the long wait for the end of life began.

Apparently, it is going to be a really really long wait because yesterday morning i was a blissful 98 degrees. The huge lymphnode and rash were still there, but my head didn't feel like someone was sitting on it anymore. I stayed home, playing it safe and diligently checking my temperature until i levelled off at 98.4. Today, the lymphnode is still tender, but decreasing along with the rash.

Turns out I'm allergic to Septra. Who knew!!