Catching Up on the Latest...Bug

It's been a tough week. I woke up Monday with a fever, a migraine, joint pain, and a sharp pain in my stomach. I thought I just overdid it during the weekend and headed on to work. I felt worse as the day progressed and left at 3pm.

By 8pm that evening, it was clear that something was terribly wrong--my head, my fever, my stomach were all much worse. I was having alternating and extreme chills and fevers. I'm not usually a big whiny baby but I was feeling sicker than I ever have before. The pain in my head and stomach were off the charts. I was becoming dizzy with the fever.

There was a terrible rainstorm (it rained 2.5 inches in about 12 hours) with wind and thunder and lightening and none of the dogs would go out to potty after dinner except Harry and Jack. Even though I had huge reservations about doing it, I put them all in crates and headed to an urgent care place I knew was open.

After a brief exam, the doctor there said that he couldn't care for me there, that I had to get to the ER. Like, right then. If I couldn't drive, he would call an ambulance.

This was not what I expected to hear.

I hardly remember the drive to the hospital. It was just a couple of miles farther down the same road but it seemed to take forever.

They examined me in the ER and admitted me immediately. I spent the next 48 hours in a cardiac ward, put there because that ward didn't have many patients at the time. What's special about a cardiac ward? They take your vitals every 3-4 hours no matter what. They WAKE YOU UP to take your vitals.

The first 24 hours were the worst. My initial CAT scan and ultrasound indicated my gall bladder was the problem, and because they thought that I might have surgery at any minute, I wasn't allowed to drink anything. My fever was 101.8, which is very high for an adult. No wonder I felt so crappy! The pain was so extreme that they were shooting dilaudid into my IV every 2 hours. Yikes. That stuff is scary. I did plenty of recreational drugs in my wild youth but nothing like that. But even as strong as it was, it barely dented the pain in my stomach and my migraine. The night passed in a drugged haze.

I was frantic about the dogs and called my petsitter at 6am. Yes, 6am. I was not terribly coherent. She said she was awake but I suspect she was being nice. Still, she got to my house in record time, cleaned out the soiled bedding in the crates (only the boys had made it without accidents), and hauled the dogs to the kennel (I called them as soon as they were open to let them know). She went above and beyond and it was such a huge relief not to have to worry about the dogs for a little while. She also returned later that day to deal with the cats.

Finally, after 24 hours and some really uncomfortable tests, the surgeon decided that he couldn't fix me by cutting me open so he passed me on to the internal medicine specialist. My fever was hovering around 100 at this point. They were pushing IV fluids into me with serious determination--about 500 ml every 8 hours. The internal specialist ordered a ton of new tests including so many blood cultures I swear they took out a gallon of blood--they were literally pulling it out of my arm with a syringe the size of a freaking cigar. My insides were imaged in ways I didn't even know existed (N.B. The section on "How It Feels" in that link is nonsense. The tracer burns like icy fire as it moves through you--for almost 2 hours.). They stopped the dilaudid and started giving me Tylenol every 2 hours. Yes, plain old Tylenol. It really helped with the fever and the joint pain.

My fever started dropping at last and the stomach pain just...stopped. Just like that. Of course, at this point, I had not eaten food since Sunday night and it was now after midnight on Tuesday. My headache lingered for a little while longer but at last it too just stopped. When the internal medicine doctor said I could have clear liquids, the nurse brought me two tiny containers of apple juice and two tiny graham crackers. Ambrosia. It exhausted me to eat that bit of food. By this point I'd been there about 36 hours.

They brought me breakfast on Wednesday morning--lemon jello! chicken broth! decaf Starbucks! Lunch was lime jello! beef broth! decaf iced tea! We all know about the medicinal effects of jello but who knew decaf Starbucks qualified too?

I was visited by an infectious disease guy who was doing a consult for the internal medicine guy. He decided I wasn't infectious enough for him so he moved on.

I never vomited during this entire time but the diarrhea started on Wednesday morning and lasted for almost 24 hours. It was probably delayed because I hadn't been eating or drinking for so long.

By Wednesday afternoon, I was pale and weak as the proverbial kitten but feeling much better. Most of the pains were gone, my temp was a near-normal 99.

The final diagnosis? Inconclusive. All those cultures, including nose and throat swabs, never grew a darned thing. All those tests indicated that my insides were functioning to specs (with one exception; see below). My white blood cell count was super low, the only direct indication of a viral infection. Yes, it seems I probably picked up a super nasty, ass kicking virus. No 48-hour bug this one, more like a 4-5 day affair. My gut is a real mess still.

My gall bladder had a role in this little drama too. All is not copacetic with my gall bladder and I suspect it won't be with me much longer. It's only functioning at around 35% of normal. My mother had her taken out a few years back so I'm going to blame her for this. You can't hide from genetics.

I was turned loose on Wednesday night in just enough time to make it to the kennel before they closed to get my dogs. We'll be doing a lot of napping this weekend.