So, yesterday, I had a spot on my leg that itched like freaking crazy. By 11 in the morning, it was at least the size of a golf ball. By 4 in the afternoon, a tennis ball and by 8 last night, a baseball. It had also developed a really disgusting blister on it and hurt like hell.
Considering that I have an abundant history of staph infections, I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what was going on. I also won't have very good health insurance in California until July, so I decided it would be easier to go to the ER last night, get it taken care of right away instead of spending half my Thursday at the doctor (remember this later).
So to the ER we went. It was an unremarkable trip. They agreed that it was staph, they drained it (holy crap holy crap holy crap), but just by squeezing it to death (sorry, I know), bandaged it and gave me Benadryl and 800mg of Bactrim to take then and there and a prescription to get a full course of antibiotics the next day.
We went home, I crashed like a load of bricks (ah Benadryl, I love thee) and slept until 8:30 this morning. When I woke up, something didn't feel right. It wasn't until I went to brush my teeth that I realized that what didn't feel right was my lips. And tongue. And when I looked in the mirror, I knew why. My lips looked like a clown. They were swollen and bright red. My tongue was so big I had some trouble swallowing and the insides of my lips were so swollen I now have about 200 bite wounds on them. Yum.
I was having a fierce allergic reaction, even with the Benadryl.
So, yea. That's not okay. So I called my pcp and she said to stop the Bactrim (no problemo) and come in asap. So by 9:20 I was in her office. My airway was fine, but she remarked that without the Benadryl, it would almost certainly have been an anaphylactic reaction. GREAT. She also decided she wanted to see my leg (which was bandaged) and upon seeing it, determined that it needed to be drained, AGAIN. This time, with a syringe.
She got some pus out, and then it proceeded to bleed for 5 solid minutes. Through countless alcohol swabs and gauze pads. She kept telling me that it was normal and after about the 4th gauze pad she finally admitted that maybe this was a little more bleeding than she expected. YA THINK?
She told me to pick up Claritin, Zantac (did you know it has antihistamine properties? Me neither!), and gave me a prescription for Doxycycline and a 6 day pulse of steroids. She also said she'd include a prescription for Diflucan because, come on, you know that's next.
So I got to the pharmacy and no Diflucan prescription. So I called the doctor's office again, and they said to run back over there and pick it up. So I paid to park, walked in and waited. And waited and waited and waited. After 15 minutes, I asked if I could leave her a note and have her call it in, left the note and left.
As I walked to my car, I saw it. A parking ticket. I was TWO MINUTES late to my car and it was already there. 2 minutes. DUDE.
And now I have to pack all the stuff I didn't pack today, drop my cat off at the airport to be flown to the out-laws (I do not want to talk about this at all) and then go to a going away party for some friends. Before I come back home and pack some more.
The drive to California had better be better than this last week in New Orleans. Otherwise, we might never make it out of Texas alive. For reals.
(p.s. Daisy would like you to know that she has the Swine Flu. Because we're practically related and feel each others pain in real, tangible ways. For serious.)