I was never told to not drink the water today. I was told there was no water in the toilets and that we would have to go to the buildings next to us on campus to pee. The water came out of the faucet in the faculty lounge, though, and I drank a little of it. Will I get some horrible disease because of the water main break? I don’t think so, people. But I sure wish someone had told me not to drink it. ‘Cause now I’m getting phantom pains in my tummy. I hate you, phantom pains. I choose to ignore your existence. So there.
How Alicia’s day has played out thus far:
Woke up swollen–really, really swollen–all around her face. Makes her look ten pounds heavier. (Yes, the vain side is showing.)
Called allergist, only to have them make an appointment for Thursday of this week. Yeah, it’s Tuesday. If it’s not today, it isn’t helping.
Took two Benadryl and prayed for a reduction of swelling.
Called hubby at work to inform him that bloodwork has to be done today in order for the allergist to get the results by Thursday (though the bloodwork isn’t going to help, either).
Decide to get bloodwork done inbetween classes. Such a wonderful thing to look forward to.
Eat breakfast and ponder how nurses should be doctors ’cause they all rock because they’re friendly, and kind, and on top of everything, and they actually freakin’ care, and the doctors are either cold or seemingly incompetent.
It’s only 10:52 a.m. Wonder what the afternoon will bring, besides taunting behind back because looking puffy isn’t fun.
I started reading A Great and Terrible Beauty on Saturday because my friend, L, reminded me that I still had her book (in the nicest way possible), and that the third one was coming out soon. I still hadn’t started the first. So I started it.
It’s freaking awesome.
I haven’t been able to put it down all weekend, which hasn’t been good for the ol’ homework. I’m going to have to rush to get a bunch of work done today, but I still want to keep reading. I’m halfway through (which means I’m going along at a pretty good clip, which is amazing for me because I swear I’m the slowest English-Major/Writing-Major reader in the entire world; I always blame it on my “reading for editing” skills, which causes me to read slower for analysis and copyediting).
Seriously, Libba Bray kicks some serious butt in the historical fiction department, young adult or adult. This has got to be one of the best books I’ve read in a really long time.
Stupid homework. Why don’t you go do yourself, and then I can get back to my book, hmm?
You know what I figured out today while organizing my photos on my computer? I have what feels like a million photos to print off from the past four or so years (since the hubby and I have been together). I always use an online print shop, usually through CVS or Walgreens, and it’s going to cost me a small fortune to print them all.
*sigh*
The things I do for memories. And scrapbooks. Can’t forget those.
Well, I was wrong. According to the allergist I saw on Friday, it was an allergic reaction, but they don’t have a way to test for an allergy to Ibuprophen. Fantastic.
That means I just have to avoid the stuff, which really sucks because Ibuprofen is like the miracle drug. And it also means I can’t take any of its relatives, like Aspirin.
As you can imagine, this throws a monkey wrench into the treatment of the pericarditis. I’m getting an echocardiogram done on Wednesday and then see the cardiologist on Thursday to see what we’re gonna do.
Ah, doctors. How I love/hate thee. I can’t even begin to count the ways.
My eyelids are starting to look puffy again.
Dammit.
I’m washing all the sheets and disinfecting the house. Told them it wasn’t an allergic reaction.
Grr…
For all of those in a panic over my health, here’s what’s going on.
I have a pericardial effusion, which basically means I have a little more fluid around my heart than they want between my pericardium and heart. It is not causing any problems with the pumping of blood to my body or to the pumping itself. But I still get heart palpitations–rapid heartbeats at strange times (like when I’m getting dressed or eating dinner).
They had me on large doses of Ibuprofen to see if what I have is caused by pericarditis–an inflammation of the pericardium. I don’t have all the signs of that or an infection, so it’s kind of a trial and error method we’re using (not my first choice, of course, but I guess medicine is not an exact science).
I’m also on Nexium because they thought it was acid reflux to being with, but when the meds didn’t seem to work, I had a stress echo done, and that’s when they found the fluid.
I have seen a cardiologist, and because the Holter Monitor (the 24-hour monitor that kept track of my heartbeat) showed that my heart rate escalated to 160 when I was putting on my pants in the morning and went to 120 when I was eating lunch, he wants to observe me more, though he said this isn’t something to be too worried about. Right. Easy for him to say. He doesn’t have the fluid around his heart.
Last Tuesday, I woke up to find my face (especially around my eyes) puffed out much more than normal. My tongue felt fat, but it was obviously not a life-threatening situation. So I, in a panic, called the hubby at work. He has allergies, so I thought he might be able to determine if that’s what was going on. Because I’m not allergic to anything, this was a panic point for me. He told me to call the family doctor to see what they said, and if I was to go to the ER, he was going to come home from work.
I called the family doctor, and, of course, he and his nurse practitioner weren’t in. But the receptionist called the RN, and she said I needed to go to the ER, just in case they needed to give me meds by IV.
I have a phobia of needles. This is bad. Really, really bad.
I called the hubby back, and he had already arranged to take the rest of the day off on sick leave.
He made it home in around 25 minutes.
For those of you who don’t know, the hubby works 40+ minutes from home.
I took a shower and attempted not to panic. Like I said, it wasn’t life-threatening. More annoying than anything.
So we went into the ER in the nearby small town so the wait would be shorter. During the short wait, my face started to get red and blotchy and really, really itchy. The doctor couldn’t determine what caused the allergic reaction because I’m not allergic to anything, but they treated it like one. One injection of steroids, a Prilosec, and a Benadryl later, we’re at home with me falling asleep.
Took a two and a half hour nap that day.
Good thing, too because I got two and a half hours of sleep that night. The steroids they gave me make my heart beat so fast I start to think I’m a butterfly. And it’s really scary. The next day, a nurse at my doctor’s office assured me that it’s the meds causing it. They have me on some sort of oral steroid, as well; I guess it’s to flush my system, but it still makes my heart flutter fast. Today is the last day, and the pills decrease gradually, so I’ve been sleeping better, and the medically-induced palpitations have reduced a ton.
I’m also wearing an Event Monitor, which is a little device that allows me to record my heartbeat when I’m having symptoms. Bad girl that I am, I haven’t been wearing it the past few days because I can’t tell if palpitations are from the meds or from me. And it’s annoying to wear and it pinches my side, so I like being free for a little while. I wear it until March 24th. Blech.
So this is where I’m at: Done with all meds, with the exception of the Nexium (because it really can’t hurt me), and I’m going in to see the cardiologist again on Thursday to see where we’re going from here.
Yeah, our insurance loves me.
The hubby and I just got home from working out at the University Rec Center. It’s nice to get back into it, and even with all the crappy health stuff (another post, I promise to explain), I want to work out my body. The doctor said I can work out, no problem, and even now that I’m not technically on anything for my heart, the old ticker doesn’t seem to be missing a beat.
And that feels good. Strong. I wonder if all this was for naught. We’ll see on Thursday when I see the cardiologist again.
P.S. I hate taking pills. No more pills!
