I feel like this last week in particular has been one spent buried alive, thawed long enough to get to another doctor and then shoved back into stasis. Through it all, my wife has been a superstar, and the kids haven’t been too bad themselves. Usually.
Last Sunday night, I started breaking out in a rash. It started with blisters on my hand, and by the time it stopped spreading I was a passable look-alike for Two Face. One cheek inflamed, welts across my back and shoulders. I tried taking over the counter antihistamines, but nothing helped. So I went to a doctor.
Allergic reaction: Confirmed.
Cause: Unknown.
The doctor put me on a bunch of steroids and sent me on. Only as the rash faded, I started developing a shortness of breath, a rasp after activity. I panicked, because this was beginning to remind me of the time I ended up in the hospital with congestive heart failure. No, I didn’t have many other signs, but I had enough to make me scared.
I went back to the doctor.
X-rays, more tests, and then on to another doctor. The end verdict is that as the allergy receded, bronchitis set in (probably due to fluid being drawn up in my body by the medicine). I thought I might be dying this week. Turns out I just have bad luck and multiple ailments presenting themselves together. Dr. House would be proud.
There was a bright lining to this story, if you can believe it. For starters, and I measured this FOUR times in disbelief, I’ve lost some weight, folks. And by “lost some weight,” I mean I’m still fat, but I’ve come down enough in the last year that you could produce a full-grown human from the mass I’ve lost. Not that you should. They’d end up being like a human sized adipose or something, which would just be terrifying. But still.
Which leaves me to the week ahead. After being out sick for the better part of a week, I have a lot of catching up to do. Work may have forgotten who I was. I have so much writing to do, it’s not even comical any more and has transformed down into straight out tragedy. But hey, I’m well rested, and while it lasts, I’m on so much steroids I can take a staircase without a single twinge of pain anywhere. Can’t breathe by the time I get to the first floor on account of the bronchitis compromising my lungs, but I have no exertion pain in getting there.
[FWIW, Wife and I have looked at some figures, and it appears I am likely allergic to one of three trees currently in bloom in the area. Upside, we know what probably causes it. Downside – it’s just going to keep happening. Bah.]