| And now on to the saga of one of the worse illnesses I've had to endure |
[Jan. 27th, 2009|12:03 pm] |
So I'm guessing what must have happened in my subconscious is, after seeing all the people around me getting sick and going to hospitals and causing panic and worrying, it said, "Hey! We want in, man!"
But how to do it, you know? Not hospitalization, we've already seen that twice in major ways. And not just a really bad illness like pneumonia because Michael's mom has that one covered. Genevieve had the surgery covered, Michael's dad has the injury thing covered on top of hospitalization. So how, best, to get in on the panicky, miserable-making, money-sucking, time-wasting bandwagon? Hey! How about we exploit two of her least favorite things. Itchiness and control over her body temperature! Only, let's make her miserable and practically immobile, too, okay?
Last Tuesday, as I leaving work, I noticed that a very small skin irritation on my leg was getting worse and turning rash-like and these small red dots were appearing on my arm. Maybe like five on each arm? Nothing too bad and I figured I was crazy noticing at all. They were very small and very light. I'd been under quite a bit of stress in the last two days so I thought if I _was_ developing a small rash, it was probably just stress and I needed to calm down and relax a little. So I went home and relaxed, we had Chinese food which always helps me feel better, and then I noticed it was spreading.
Still not worried, I went to sleep. And woke up on fire in the middle of the night. Actually, more like six times. My skin was erupting in various areas in much meaner and larger and redder spots. It was not what I'd call pleasant. So I figured, okay, I should really go to the doctor because I need to get this taken care of right at the start. So after Michael left for work on Wednesday morning, Genevieve (who was a saint for the day and took amazing, patient, and loving care of me entirely) and I got ready and she took me to the doctor. All the while, I'm getting worse. It's not all over half the area of each of my arms leading up and a bit on my shoulders and spreading across the tops of my legs close to my knees. So I get to the doctor's and I'm freezing. And achy. Feverish, even. And we wait. And wait. And wait. For two and a half hours.
When I finally got in the nurse who originally took a look at me just basically kept saying the word "Shingles!" 'No, I really don't think it's shingles...It doesn't hurt and I've already had chicken pox and this is a bit far spread and fast...' "Shingles! You have shingles! The doctor should look, but that's what you have!" 'Um...okay...' So I figure I'll wait for the doctor and see if she'll actually talk to me. Well, as I was waiting, I started realizing this was seriously bad and not getting better. I had also, up until that point, thought it was probably allergic. But something was bugging me. Last year, when I had a similarly (up to this point, anyway) unpleasant skin experience in which the new antibiotic I was on attacked my body more than what I had and had my skin bubbling and changing color at work, I had come in, learning it was an allergic reaction, gotten a shot, and within an hour, 75% of it was gone or barely detectable. This rash was _much_ different. I had never given thought to all the different kinds of rashes there are, all the different textured and colors and reactions, but this experience made me thing. And this was definitely not bubbling, and while spreading fast, not spreading as fast as the allergy had. Plus, I'd eaten and done nothing that I could have had an allergy to; it was all familiar.
Still, when the doctor (a new female doctor who'd come to work with my regular doctor, Dr. Rizzo, there) came in and looked she did listen to everything I said, she suppressed the idea of shingles (which I _knew_ was wrong), and said "allergy". And even with all the thoughts I'd had while waiting, I gratefully accepted this as the answer from a well trained doctor, took the steroid shot thoroughly happy at the prospect of it going away in a few hours and going back to work, and sure some blood work just in case it's viral, why not? The steroids can't hurt, so if it is viral, at least the shot and steroid pills will do all they're able to do in the meantime.
If I've learned one thing this week it is this: The steroids can hurt.
And I don't mean they're unpleasant to take or the side effects make it almost not worth it. No, I mean they can make the condition _worse_. But at the time, I still didn't know this. So I was pleased. Genevieve bought me a quick lunch while we got my prescriptions filled, and I was now feeling distinctly miserable. Very cold, very achy, and very tired. I went along for the ride for the few errands Genevieve needed to run, all the while bundled in the car and sleeping off and on. When she brought me home and barely got in the door, to the bedroom, changed, and into bed before my body said 'One more minute and it would have been sleeping on the floor for you!'
So I slept a couple of hours, got up for a few to have some dinner, played some video games, and had my first fitful, cold to hot to cold to itchy to hot, waking up every hour night's sleep. Thursday started the really feverish achy miserable stage and I spent most of it sleeping or sitting on the couch watching TV or playing video games. Michael took amazing care of me and Genevieve (who had her tooth surgery on Thursday afternoon), and then came [abbreviated] night's sleep number two. I'd made my appointment to return for Saturday, but it was getting so much worse that I walked in on Friday instead. Fortunately the afternoon is a much better time and we barely waited before I was taken. And the minute the nurse saw me she said, "Oh no! Is shingles?! Oh no... It's worse, you know! Dr. Rizzo has to see you. I get him..." (As a disclaimer, she was actually a very nice lady. She was shingles-obsessed and a little less than compassionate the very first time I saw her, but she really was sweet, and funny, and very concerned for me.)
Dr. Rizzo is a dorky doctor that I started seeing because my primary doctor (Dr. Calamari) used to run the practice he runs now and she had him on as basically an intern and then gave him the practice. But sometimes when I'd go to see her, he's see me because they were busy and worked together. So I got very used to both of them and they both know my medical history pretty extensively. That's why I go there when I can't wait for an appointment because he accepts walk-ins. When he walked in he first said "Paging Doctor House!" and then told me that this never should have been diagnosed as an allergy. Within literally ten seconds. And apparently, the steroids made it worse! Much worse! In fact he said it probably would have stopped spreading and started getting better if it weren't for the steroids. But they made the rash spread and the illness worsen quite a bit in their 48 hours in my system.
We talked for a while while all the nurses on staff and both doctors gawked at my incredibly severe case of a viral infection showing itself as a rash. He explained that rashes are basically burns and work in the same way. My blood work implies that I can't have a viral infection, but everything he knows about medicine said it was so it was going to treat it like one (which mostly means wait a while and it'll go away; but also there was a cream involved), give me an antibiotic on the very off change it was bacterial (practically impossible), and take even more blood work to see if there's something like an autoimmune disorder, diabetes, or cancer that sped up the spreading process. Because even before the steroids, it was spreading faster and much larger than any viral rash he'd ever seen. He ultimately diagnosed me with Pityriasis rosea, told me not to go to work until at least _Wednesday_, and to page him it it got worse over the weekend.
Another rest-filled day and [abbreviated] night's sleep. Saturday it became clear it was still spreading but the steroids weren't going to up and leave just because I stopped popping the pills so I figured it would be okay. I actually went out for a while, even though I was not pleased with the appearances on my face, and got some air and sunlight. Also got to pick up my engagement ring from the jeweler where he put in a new gem for me and seemed to have cleaned it up and even put on a new rodium dip for me. Spent the evening lazily and resting again with more aches and again sleep. Sunday I woke up and everything I'd been going through hit me all at once. And this is because I'd ceased to look like myself. Along with making it's journey complete and not covering literally every inch of my flesh, it had also caused my face to swell. Everywhere. Especially in my eyes. I could barely open my left one and my right one was soon to follow. I looked literally the most tired (and deformed) I've ever looked. And it was scary. All of it was scary, but I hadn't let myself be scared yet. This was when I couldn't hold it back anymore. I was scared and I looked like a mutant.
Genevieve and Michael insist it wasn't that bad, and I hope it wasn't, but it really felt that bad. And it just kind of really hit home when it looked like that. But, after a little bit of panicking, I realized I was going back to the doctor first thing Monday morning and there were some good signs. No more fevers. I actually has some energy and an appetite. Some of the rash seemed to be actually getting better and while still reddish and a little bruised, getting much closer to normal. So I focused on those things and, as the day went on, the swelling even went down a bit. This day, though, I decided _not_ to go out. We played around with the new DVR we'd gotten on Thursday, I sorted some Magic cards, and slept actually better that night then all the previous nights since last Monday.
And yesterday, while I still was disconcerted by the swelling, it was clear that things were getting better because some of my skin really just looking like I'd had a bad tan, and other parts looked pretty normal in most lights. And the doctor was very pleased when he saw me. He told me the swelling would go down on it's own and the rash will continue to mellow out until it's gone. All my blood work came back normal (except the Lupus test I'm still waiting for) so this is likely to be the end in sight. I actually _can_ go back to work Wednesday (which I and my wallet are ecstatic about) and hopefully by the end of the week this will all be just a memory.
A very unpleasant memory. Fortunately, Genevieve and Michael made it as pleasant as a debilitating rash and flu symptoms possibly could be. I couldn't have asked for better care and I felt a hundred times better just having them around. So I guess not all the memory needs to be bad. |
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