(no subject)
Last week Wednesday, Dante bit me during nursing. It throbbed for a while but didn't bleed or anything, so I didn't think much more of it. But when I woke up Friday, that boob hurt, a LOT. I still couldn't see anything out of the ordinary, though.
When I pumped at work that morning, however (a painful process), suddenly a wound appeared on the side of my nip and excreted blood and other...fluids. So I says to myself, "Self, you've gotta get your ass to a doctor." I managed to get an appointment for that afternoon, although not with my regular doctor. I showed up for the appointment promptly, and spent the next twenty to twenty-five minutes cooling my heels in the exam room. The doctor finally showed up to spend what would literally be about two minutes with me. The first thing she asked was, "So how did you get bitten? Are you a teacher or something?"
Let's disregard the fact that she obviously didn't give more than the most cursory of glances at my patient file, or speak to any of the nurses. Instead, let's give that question a little thought. Even if I were a teacher, how the hell would I get bitten on the nipple? A human bite bad enough to get infected probably couldn't be administered through clothing. "Gather 'round, kiddies, it's Teacher's Topless Tutor Time!" Mental note: find out what school she's sending her kids to so I can make sure Dante never goes there.
She decided to treat it like mastitis, I'm not sure why, and told me she would prescribe an antibiotic. When I asked whether it would interfere with my birth control, she answered, "Good question." Wow, lady. I am awed by your expertise.
So I picked up said antibiotic after work and took it, as instructed, at 5:30 p.m. with plenty of food. Around 9 p.m., I started to feel a little nauseous, but I ignored it because I hadn't been to Perkins in a while and I wanted to go. Once I got there, though, I continued to feel worse (a situation exacerbated by my unfortunate choice of rather tight pants). Finally I couldn't take it anymore, and left early. When I got home, I put down my purse and proceeded directly to the bathroom, where my hearty dinner reincarnated itself as a horror I couldn't flush fast enough. I continued to hurl from midnight until 5:30 a.m. I felt incredibly ill all of Saturday, with other symptoms coming to join the fun. Since I was too sick to eat, I couldn't take any more of the antibiotic, and after the night I'd had, I was afraid to take it again anyway. When I called the doctor's office, I was put on hold for ten minutes, after which their phone system hung up on me. Too pissed off to call back, I adopted a "wait and see" attitude.
Sunday dawned with me feeling a million times better...but my bite started to hurt more again, dashing my hopes that it would just go away on its own. After successfully speaking with the on-call doctor, I was prescribed a different antibiotic that hasn't made me sick. My bite is healing, but slowly because it comes open again every time I pump.
I can't wait until someday when Dante is being a bratty teenager and I can throw in his face how I've suffered for him. :)
When I pumped at work that morning, however (a painful process), suddenly a wound appeared on the side of my nip and excreted blood and other...fluids. So I says to myself, "Self, you've gotta get your ass to a doctor." I managed to get an appointment for that afternoon, although not with my regular doctor. I showed up for the appointment promptly, and spent the next twenty to twenty-five minutes cooling my heels in the exam room. The doctor finally showed up to spend what would literally be about two minutes with me. The first thing she asked was, "So how did you get bitten? Are you a teacher or something?"
Let's disregard the fact that she obviously didn't give more than the most cursory of glances at my patient file, or speak to any of the nurses. Instead, let's give that question a little thought. Even if I were a teacher, how the hell would I get bitten on the nipple? A human bite bad enough to get infected probably couldn't be administered through clothing. "Gather 'round, kiddies, it's Teacher's Topless Tutor Time!" Mental note: find out what school she's sending her kids to so I can make sure Dante never goes there.
She decided to treat it like mastitis, I'm not sure why, and told me she would prescribe an antibiotic. When I asked whether it would interfere with my birth control, she answered, "Good question." Wow, lady. I am awed by your expertise.
So I picked up said antibiotic after work and took it, as instructed, at 5:30 p.m. with plenty of food. Around 9 p.m., I started to feel a little nauseous, but I ignored it because I hadn't been to Perkins in a while and I wanted to go. Once I got there, though, I continued to feel worse (a situation exacerbated by my unfortunate choice of rather tight pants). Finally I couldn't take it anymore, and left early. When I got home, I put down my purse and proceeded directly to the bathroom, where my hearty dinner reincarnated itself as a horror I couldn't flush fast enough. I continued to hurl from midnight until 5:30 a.m. I felt incredibly ill all of Saturday, with other symptoms coming to join the fun. Since I was too sick to eat, I couldn't take any more of the antibiotic, and after the night I'd had, I was afraid to take it again anyway. When I called the doctor's office, I was put on hold for ten minutes, after which their phone system hung up on me. Too pissed off to call back, I adopted a "wait and see" attitude.
Sunday dawned with me feeling a million times better...but my bite started to hurt more again, dashing my hopes that it would just go away on its own. After successfully speaking with the on-call doctor, I was prescribed a different antibiotic that hasn't made me sick. My bite is healing, but slowly because it comes open again every time I pump.
I can't wait until someday when Dante is being a bratty teenager and I can throw in his face how I've suffered for him. :)