Happy New Year, My Ass
I hope that all of my f-list had happy, healthy and above all fun New Years festivities.
I spent mine in the one of the local E.R.s, being pumped full of fluids.
But that is getting ahead of the tale...
It started on Sunday, with me waking suddenly to a raging 103 degree fever and the urge
to expel from my body anything I had put into it for the past two days.
Monday I went to my doctor, after spending all of Sunday trying to barf up my innards
(among other things. Let's just say both ends of the body were worshipping at the porcelain altars.). She diagnosed a viral infection, sent me home with various anti-stuff-coming-out-of-me drugs, and a warning that if I continued to not be able to keep fluids down, I'd have to go to the hospital. I got a doctor's excuse for Tuesday when I was scheduled to be back at work.
Tuesday I get a call from work telling me my attendance is such that I need to come to work on Wednesday or 'face serious consequences'. I spend the rest of the day trying to drink Pedialyte and watching 'Serenity' on tv through the fog of fever. (Big mistake... Reavers are way scary when you are out of your head)
Wednesday, I have the hubby drive me in to work, after calling ahead to explain that, yeah, I'm still sick. I'm told to come in anyway. I lasted all of two hours before I passed out. I wake up (still on the floor) to find the husband unit hovering over me, sans shoes or socks(and later I learned, going commando as well... lol) with my two co-workers. One co-worker called him to come and get me, the other ran for help, and everything went to hell from there. We left the store, and found out later that a manager had called an ambulance but *never came back to make sure I was ok*: didn't have anyone take a pulse, see if I needed CPR, or even pick my ass up off the floor and put me in a wheelchair. Never came back to our area to say (or even radio) that help was on the way... imagine the chaos that ensued when no-one could find the 'girl who passed out upstairs'. J. and I were on our merry way by then, untraceable (sans cellphone, which I really suppose we should acquire after this whole travesty). J. returned home briefly to change and was met with 6 frantic 'OMGOMG where is A is she dead WTF wheredidshegoOMG' phone messages from my work. He also totally failed at giving the front desk my correct phone number, Social security number and birthdate, and later at contacting my loved ones. (no, honey, you can't find my folks' number under 'Mr. and Mrs. Alison's Parents').
So, New Year's Eve and much of the following day were spent sucking up 4 bags of saline solution. I apparently babbled quite a bit and totally at random about: the color blue, a pair of shoes I don't even own, a party at my brother's house from three years ago, and having rabbit fur on my body. (J. says his favorite moment was when I was being signed in at the desk, and they asked for an address, and before he could answer I exclaimed brightly 'I live at my house!'). I came home early Friday and slept straight through until 10pm Saturday, and then slept all of today. I feel human again and am vaguely ambulatory, and able to drink freely. I think I even ate some crackers around 8pm.
Now comes the real test: a bowl of chicken soup. I'll probably top it off with another nap, because believe it or not, I am still dog-ass tired.
If this is seriously what the rest of 2009 will be like, I am hitting the 'fast-forward' button right now. I'll see you all in 2010, baby!
I spent mine in the one of the local E.R.s, being pumped full of fluids.
But that is getting ahead of the tale...
It started on Sunday, with me waking suddenly to a raging 103 degree fever and the urge
to expel from my body anything I had put into it for the past two days.
Monday I went to my doctor, after spending all of Sunday trying to barf up my innards
(among other things. Let's just say both ends of the body were worshipping at the porcelain altars.). She diagnosed a viral infection, sent me home with various anti-stuff-coming-out-of-me drugs, and a warning that if I continued to not be able to keep fluids down, I'd have to go to the hospital. I got a doctor's excuse for Tuesday when I was scheduled to be back at work.
Tuesday I get a call from work telling me my attendance is such that I need to come to work on Wednesday or 'face serious consequences'. I spend the rest of the day trying to drink Pedialyte and watching 'Serenity' on tv through the fog of fever. (Big mistake... Reavers are way scary when you are out of your head)
Wednesday, I have the hubby drive me in to work, after calling ahead to explain that, yeah, I'm still sick. I'm told to come in anyway. I lasted all of two hours before I passed out. I wake up (still on the floor) to find the husband unit hovering over me, sans shoes or socks(and later I learned, going commando as well... lol) with my two co-workers. One co-worker called him to come and get me, the other ran for help, and everything went to hell from there. We left the store, and found out later that a manager had called an ambulance but *never came back to make sure I was ok*: didn't have anyone take a pulse, see if I needed CPR, or even pick my ass up off the floor and put me in a wheelchair. Never came back to our area to say (or even radio) that help was on the way... imagine the chaos that ensued when no-one could find the 'girl who passed out upstairs'. J. and I were on our merry way by then, untraceable (sans cellphone, which I really suppose we should acquire after this whole travesty). J. returned home briefly to change and was met with 6 frantic 'OMGOMG where is A is she dead WTF wheredidshegoOMG' phone messages from my work. He also totally failed at giving the front desk my correct phone number, Social security number and birthdate, and later at contacting my loved ones. (no, honey, you can't find my folks' number under 'Mr. and Mrs. Alison's Parents').
So, New Year's Eve and much of the following day were spent sucking up 4 bags of saline solution. I apparently babbled quite a bit and totally at random about: the color blue, a pair of shoes I don't even own, a party at my brother's house from three years ago, and having rabbit fur on my body. (J. says his favorite moment was when I was being signed in at the desk, and they asked for an address, and before he could answer I exclaimed brightly 'I live at my house!'). I came home early Friday and slept straight through until 10pm Saturday, and then slept all of today. I feel human again and am vaguely ambulatory, and able to drink freely. I think I even ate some crackers around 8pm.
Now comes the real test: a bowl of chicken soup. I'll probably top it off with another nap, because believe it or not, I am still dog-ass tired.
If this is seriously what the rest of 2009 will be like, I am hitting the 'fast-forward' button right now. I'll see you all in 2010, baby!