Just my luck.
Somehow, I've managed to get infected with strep. Late yesterday afternoon, I started to feel a little worn down accompanied by a really annoying headache. Figuring my immune system is probably just shot from the lack of sleep of the previous nights (Ethan had been cranky since he got his first set of shots Monday), I popped a couple of Tylenol Extra Strength and kept on trucking. I was extremely exhausted by the time I had to pick Ethan up from daycare that I nearly fell asleep in one of their rockers, but decided I would show up anyway (like I said I would) to a dinner event I had been invited to at the catholic church by our house before heading home. I figured it would at least spare me from having to cook dinner or settle for fast food. And by the time Ethan and I got home at 8, I was ready to go to bed.
I woke up shivering an hour and a half later, which baffled me a bit since it's unusual that you would find the fan off and me tucked under the comforter. It felt like forever before I could muster up the energy to get out of bed to put a sweatshirt and some thick socks on. I knew then I must be coming down with something. And when the digital thermometer read 103.7, I was about ready to pass out I could hardly even get the Tylenol bottle out of the medicine cabinet.
Conveniently enough, Mike has been out of town for work and won't be back for another couple of days. It didn't help much talking to my mom and her telling me that this is what I get for moving so far away, although I'm sure her intentions were fair. By midight, Mike had made an executive decision to have one of the guys from his work come and drag me to the emergency room, which was the last thing in my mind... People don't go to emergency rooms because of fever, do they?
I HATE hospitals.
I HATE the emergency room even more.
I've seen people with blood gushing out of a head wound waiting in emergency rooms, yet it's considered "normal" and expected. It confounds me how hospital staff service is always at its worse when you seem to need it the most.... when you're the only one sitting in the waiting room and it takes the girl behind the cheap plexiglass 30 minutes to call your name and take your information down, and then she spends another 30 minutes exasperatingly pressing buttons on her keyboard (which by the way, irritates the shit out me. It's 2006. People who still use DOS programs should be hung and burned at the stake), while inbetween she manages to joke around with the other girl who's apparently not doing very much of anything either.
An hour later, a male nurse finally escorts me to one of the beds, while Tran (Mike's friend who came and took me to the hospital) stayed in the waiting room with Ethan. By that time, I think I might've been hallucinating or just plain exhausted (or a combination of both), but I couldn't stop thinking about the male nurse and Gaylord Focker... and how he looked awfully fruity in those green scrubs.
Anyway, the only thing I probably like about going to the hospital is the feeling of that warm blanket on your skin for the first few minutes... I must've fallen asleep waiting, and I was still a little bit woozy when the doctor finally came in another hour later to stick a swab down my throat. He said my lymph nodes on my neck were swollen, and I've got white pus on my tonsils ( YUCK ) so he suspected it was strep, which the swab test later on confirmed. I've never had it before, but it sure sounded bad. When he said I'm going to feel worse before I get better, and that it'll take at least 36 hours before the penicillin they shot in my butt will even start doing its job and another 4-5 days before my symptoms go away..... I just groaned.
I had been thinking that I sort of miss spending time with Ethan at home, but these conditions weren't exactly what I had in mind. I called the pediatrician first thing this morning though and they said that I should be fine to be around my baby... and that I could even continue breastfeeding so long as I don't have a fever.
I guess it's the perfect way to end possibly one of the worst weeks ever. And my ass still hurts from that shot.
Somehow, I've managed to get infected with strep. Late yesterday afternoon, I started to feel a little worn down accompanied by a really annoying headache. Figuring my immune system is probably just shot from the lack of sleep of the previous nights (Ethan had been cranky since he got his first set of shots Monday), I popped a couple of Tylenol Extra Strength and kept on trucking. I was extremely exhausted by the time I had to pick Ethan up from daycare that I nearly fell asleep in one of their rockers, but decided I would show up anyway (like I said I would) to a dinner event I had been invited to at the catholic church by our house before heading home. I figured it would at least spare me from having to cook dinner or settle for fast food. And by the time Ethan and I got home at 8, I was ready to go to bed.I woke up shivering an hour and a half later, which baffled me a bit since it's unusual that you would find the fan off and me tucked under the comforter. It felt like forever before I could muster up the energy to get out of bed to put a sweatshirt and some thick socks on. I knew then I must be coming down with something. And when the digital thermometer read 103.7, I was about ready to pass out I could hardly even get the Tylenol bottle out of the medicine cabinet.
Conveniently enough, Mike has been out of town for work and won't be back for another couple of days. It didn't help much talking to my mom and her telling me that this is what I get for moving so far away, although I'm sure her intentions were fair. By midight, Mike had made an executive decision to have one of the guys from his work come and drag me to the emergency room, which was the last thing in my mind... People don't go to emergency rooms because of fever, do they?
I HATE hospitals.
I HATE the emergency room even more.
I've seen people with blood gushing out of a head wound waiting in emergency rooms, yet it's considered "normal" and expected. It confounds me how hospital staff service is always at its worse when you seem to need it the most.... when you're the only one sitting in the waiting room and it takes the girl behind the cheap plexiglass 30 minutes to call your name and take your information down, and then she spends another 30 minutes exasperatingly pressing buttons on her keyboard (which by the way, irritates the shit out me. It's 2006. People who still use DOS programs should be hung and burned at the stake), while inbetween she manages to joke around with the other girl who's apparently not doing very much of anything either.An hour later, a male nurse finally escorts me to one of the beds, while Tran (Mike's friend who came and took me to the hospital) stayed in the waiting room with Ethan. By that time, I think I might've been hallucinating or just plain exhausted (or a combination of both), but I couldn't stop thinking about the male nurse and Gaylord Focker... and how he looked awfully fruity in those green scrubs.
Anyway, the only thing I probably like about going to the hospital is the feeling of that warm blanket on your skin for the first few minutes... I must've fallen asleep waiting, and I was still a little bit woozy when the doctor finally came in another hour later to stick a swab down my throat. He said my lymph nodes on my neck were swollen, and I've got white pus on my tonsils ( YUCK ) so he suspected it was strep, which the swab test later on confirmed. I've never had it before, but it sure sounded bad. When he said I'm going to feel worse before I get better, and that it'll take at least 36 hours before the penicillin they shot in my butt will even start doing its job and another 4-5 days before my symptoms go away..... I just groaned.
I had been thinking that I sort of miss spending time with Ethan at home, but these conditions weren't exactly what I had in mind. I called the pediatrician first thing this morning though and they said that I should be fine to be around my baby... and that I could even continue breastfeeding so long as I don't have a fever.
I guess it's the perfect way to end possibly one of the worst weeks ever. And my ass still hurts from that shot.
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