I am sick. I have been sick since the week after Thanksgiving. I got an infection that never really went away, and eventually turned into a kidney infection (acute pyelonephretis, for you Latin-lovers out there). If you’re wondering why I haven’t been posting much, that would be why.
On Wednesday, January 5th, I went to South Carolina with my mom and aunt, to visit relatives. This turned out to be a bad idea. I got worse, and there was nowhere to go but the local emergency room. In spite of my telling them that I had seen actual visible blood in my urine in the toilet the day before, nobody there even touched me. No doctor, no nurse, nobody. They just did a cursory look at the urine sample, gave me a ten-day course of Cipro, and sent me home to get worse.
After a miserable twelve-hour drive north (usually only ten, but twelve because of my being sick) last Thursday, I wound up seeing my regular doctor on Friday. She said I needed to go to the local ER to get a CaT scan to rule out appendicitis. I cried. I cussed. “F***!” I said. I cannot afford this. I cannot afford anything. I can’t even afford my regular prescriptions right now. It’s a good thing they don’t charge you for breathing…but wait, they sort of do, since I’m asthmatic. Damn.
At any rate, I was able to get some sort of poverty help thing at the hospital. I was poked, prodded, CaT scanned, and appendicitis was ruled out. Everything CaT-scannable in my innards checks out fine. So there’s that. They sent me home with a new, expensive antibiotic (thankfully, giving me the first dose while there!). They also gave me morphine, which was good, since all the prodding and poking only exacerbated the pain in said innards. And I am no pain wimp.
So, I saw my doctor again on Monday, my urine checks out ok–blood-free. She speculates I might have had a kidney stone. She tells me to finish the antibiotic, and if I’m still sick when it’s over with, to call her up for another appointment.
At this point it looks like the agony part of my sickness adventure is over with and I am down to the tired/wrung-out feeling part.
I’d like to rest for a million years. But I have to find a job and beat off my scary bills with a stick. I almost miss how I felt a year ago, when I was so much in agony over losing Nelson that I couldn’t really worry about practical things, at least not as much. Worry would nibble at me, but it wouldn’t grab. Now…well, it’s like worry has gone from goldfish to piranhas. I really preferred the goldfish.
And it’s not like the missing Nelson part has gone away, either. That’s still there. It’s there with the piranhas.
And here I was thinking 2011 was going to be a better year…I’ve gotten off to an epically bad start! Oy. Bozhe moi gospodi. Gospodi pomilui. Oh my God. Lord have mercy.