If an ant bites my foot, it swells up to the size of a
football and I have to take steroids and antihistamines. The possibility of
roid rage makes me feel like I'm living on the edge, giving me an excuse to
flip a table or punch holes in the walls. "Myke, I couldn't help it. I was
raging." I'd start hanging out with Danny Bonaduce because he'd be the
only person who "gets me." My foot would go back to it's normal size
but now I'd have a steroid addiction. It wouldn't all be for not because
Bonaduce and I could have a reality show until our falling out over my attempts at sobriety. Then we'd go on VH1's Couples
Therapy to work it out. (#anyway)
I have been rushed to the ER three times, once with a police
escort, after my face started to swell and my airway began to close. The nurse
said, "Five more minutes and you would've been dead." She had an
amazing bed side manner. Such a nurturer...really. I like to think her next
patient came in with a stomach flu so she put his arm in a sling and she
finally got fired. Maybe she'd join the reality show with me and Bonaduce. If
she hadn't been my nurse I think there's a real possibility that we would've
been great friends. Her personality was just so salty and I put salt on
everything. I saw multiple allergists who couldn't tell me what I was allergic
to besides answers. I was given an epi pen and sent on my way.
There was that one time I got married. I decided to break my
toe in the middle of the night while trying to find my way back to bed in
complete darkness. I wore flip flops under my wedding dress. My entire foot was
black and blue. After our nine hour flight to Hawaii for our honeymoon my foot
looked like a caricature of itself. It was the size of a newborn and kept me
from scuba diving, hiking, swimming, really anything The Beard wanted to do.
Feels like one of those times someone probably said, "You'll look back on
that trip years from now and just laugh." (#ummno)
Have you ever heard of pityriasis rosea? Yeah, me neither,
until my upper body was covered in spots that looked like hives. When they
didn't go away after being at work all day I went to urgent care. I thought it
was simply an allergic reaction to a nine to five. The doctor said it was a
pretty common skin disease. (#mmk) She said there was no specific cause, no
treatment and it would probably linger for three months, spreading it's way
across my body and possibly my face. Great information and totally worth my
copay. I would walk around the house topless because the rubbing of fabric on
my person was irritating. It was a gift to our neighbors since we are still
without window coverings. And by gift, I mean a sac of coal...
There's also that time my little (#big) brother and The
Beard had to push me around Disney World in a wheelchair. I had a fractured
foot and a free pass to the front of every line. My dad would yell, "it's
a miracle" every time I stood up. My brother, Spencer, would see how fast
he could push me while weaving in and out of the crowds. At the end of that
trip I developed strep, you know, just to punctuate that sentence.
I started having aura migraines about a year ago. I see flashing
lights in my vision as a warning sign for the nausea and dizziness to come. The
first time this happened I got a shot of morphine in my arse and a satchel of
anti-nausea pills. Maybe I still use those...
The Beard, my sister from another
mister and I decided to take Snelson and Stanley to
Stone Mountain for a bit of a hike. We were at the base of the mountain, taking
in the view. We got maybe twenty feet when my foot got caught on a tree root
and I went down like this
here oak tree. I don't remember the last time I've felt that much pain. On
the same path was a father and his triplet girls. (Yes, I'm serious.) They were
taking a health class at school and decided to take this learning moment to
keep me calm and tell me how to breath. They were maybe eight years old,
standing around me like I was a sacrificial lamb. The father whipped out a
splint from who knows where. His fanny pack was fully equipped in case a
thirty something year old woman didn't watch where she was walking and took a
tumble in the middle of the woods. The Beard called the Stone Mountain police
who called the Stone Mountain paramedics. We heard sirens and suddenly I was on
a stretcher being hoisted by five to seven men. They carried me out of the
woods and of course had me sign a stack of waivers. They offered a ride to the
ER in the back of an ambulance that would set us back $500. Obviously we passed
because you CAN put a price on good health. The Beard and Mary turned the back
of the Element into something quite comparable. Like if Uber decided to show up
for emergencies it would look like my sweet ride to the hospital. I had a
blanket, I could lay down fully extended and Mary inserted an IV. (Not really
but wouldn't that have been amaze?) Something, something, cast, something and
my friend Lara pushed me around in a wheel chair at work for a few weeks. I
should really invest in my own wheelchair.
When living in Savannah I had pain in my abdomen that had me
doubled over and screaming for my mommy. I went to the ER and they admitted me
to the hospital where I spent the next three days. I had no control over my
bodily functions. Three different specialists came to my room to poke and prod
me. This is where we get real, REAL. I had soiled all my undergarments and asked
if they had something for me to wear. The nurse handed me mesh
underwear and I looked at her with tears in my eyes. Had she not been privy to
what had been going on for hours on end? Maybe it was the same lady who kindly
let me know I almost died. Let's just say yes.
These stories could go on forever but it's almost time to
cook a turkey...
Lara, my co-worker and friend, took me to my first
appointment on Friday. We bonded in a way that someone who drives a person with
a dead limb to their doctor's office would. She saw me topless like our
unfortunate neighbors. We decided the physician's assistant was relying on Dr.
Google when she would leave the room for long spans of time. Apparently the
intrawebs didn't know what was wrong either so she sent us to another
doctor.
Both doctors asked if I had been doing any new, unusual
activity. My mind ran wild with things like, roller skating interpretations of
Stephen King novels or hang gliding while knitting a throw. I said,
"No." The second physician's assistant at the
second appointment at the third building seemed very concerned. She told The Beard to rush me to the ER if I had blurry vision or if my speech was confused and uncharacteristic. Without the ability to verbalize this to him how would he know that this was different from the everyday? I'm like an amusement park ride, sometimes I run smoothly, sometimes
a bird hits Fabio in his gross, romance novel face and sometimes I get stuck
upside down with twenty people, blood rushing to their noggins.
Over the weekend I gained use of my arm and still have some
lingering pain. I'm waiting on my MRI results and for now, I've put away my
roller skates. I'm going to look for merit badges chronicling my medical
afflictions and sew them onto a denim jacket. I'll wear it every time I go to
the hospital so I don't have to fill out the medical history form. I'll do a
quick spin and then tell them my height and weight.
I think we've established my tendency to over share. I just wanted to cement this fact and make sure you were still (#allin).
Happy Turkey Day and here's to making it out alive!
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