As I type this, I’m recovering from an illness I wouldn’t wish on anyone … well no friends or even neutral parties at least.
I woke up last Thursday chilled. It was about 6:30 a.m., and normally by this time, I’m a bit warm in our bed. My wife and I seem to give off a fair bit of combined heat (I’ve always been like that, and she used to put her cold feed up against me for warmth). But this time around, I was cold to the point I had to get out of bed.
Prior to a nice, hot shower, I noticed a red rash on my right bum cheek (did my wife spank me in my sleep? Nah.). Since my right hip is the one that I had surgically replaced. I was a wee bit worried.
After the shower, I felt a little better, but that didn’t last. I got our teen to school and then headed to the office.
My breakfast sandwich tasted like mud. Not a good sign.
I could barely type, as I began to get the shakes and chills.
Texting Mary, my wife, was a chore as my hands were shaking that badly.
Everyone at the office said I looked pale and they collectively sent me, the boss, home.
I thank them for that. It’s awesome working for such compassionate folks. We’re like a big family here.
Once I got home, I basically sat in a chair and stared off into space, before calling my orthopedic surgeon’s office for advice. I feared my hip joint was infected, and this was causing all my discomfort and fever.
They said I needed to see my family doc or visit the ER to get a referral.
Of course, my first response was, “Really?” I thought it was a bit standoffish.
But I’m not a medical professional.
A call to the doc’s office got me into see a nurse practitioner that afternoon. She took my temperature (102.4 F), blood pressure and had a look at my rash.
That led her to check some medical info in another room, and she asked the doc to come in for a look as well.
They said I had a strep infection. Huh? I thought strep was confined to the throat. (Remember I said I wasn’t a medical professional.)
Nope, like staph, it can infect the skin. Don’t Google it. It’s gross. Thankfully, what I have has not looked like some of the nasty images online.
They checked to insure my hip joint wasn’t impacted (it wasn’t, thankfully). And that’s why the orthopedic folks sent me to my own doc.
So the doc and nurse practitioner gave me a prescription for antibiotics, and sent me on my way, but not before the practitioner took out a pen and drew on my butt. I half expected to go home and find a happy face on my right cheek.
But she said she was outlining the rash and that my wife was to check to make sure it stayed inside the border. If it got worse, I was to go to the hospital for IV antibiotics. Fortunately, that didn’t occur.
What did take place was an Easter weekend of bleh.
Yes, bleh.
That’s the best way to describe how I felt. It was a no-fun cycle of going from getting the chills and piling on the blankets to getting warm and sweating while just in a T-shirt.
And through it all, I had a killer of a headache. I had to hold my temples to cough or sneeze.
Oh, and the rash hurt. It wasn’t a sharp pain, but an ache.
I slept only a few fitful hours at night, and dozed a little in the recliner during the days.
I couldn’t really concentrate for the most part to watch so much as a movie with any kind of plot. Reading was out. Thankfully, Opening Day for baseball season was the day I took ill. With MLB.TV, I could have a ball game on, watch some of the action, and/or listen with my eyes closed. It helped pass the time as I went from buried in blankets to soaked in sweat in a T-shirt.
The fever finally broke Sunday morning. The headache decided to stay around a little longer.
I hope to be back to normal (my normal, anyway) soon.
Now, if I could just get a good night’s sleep…
My wives are troopers
Mary Beth is an excellent caregiver. She should have been a nurse. She did a fine job taking care of me on the weekend. Remember, I’m a guy, and when we get ill, we are all but useless.
But Mary also had work commitments on Thursday, as well as commitments with our daughter, who was getting her birthday tattoo that afternoon.
That would be a scheduling conflict with my health-care needs.
Enter my “work wife,” Fatima. Michelle used to be my work wife but I’ve been working more closely with Fatima lately on a number of fronts, so Michelle is now my ex-work wife.
Fatima took care of some of my Thursday deliveries. And then she went way above and beyond. You see, when I got home that morning, I noticed a black sedan drove down our street rather slowly, first one way, then the other. In my feverish state, I wondered if they were looking for a prime B&E location. No cars in our driveway. I remembered the flyer wrap was sitting in the mailbox, so I grabbed it and tossed it into the recycling bin, and headed for bed.
My work wife sent me a text a couple hours later saying she was in the driveway with my truck, and asked if I wanted to come and get the keys. I was borderline delusional in my fevered state, so I asked her to put the keys in a safe place for me to retrieve later, and asked her to do me a huge favour to check the basement windows, as I’d heard a strange noise only a few minute earlier (or thought I did). I guess I neglected to inform her about the noise, and she was wondering what I was thinking.
But, in the rain (which I had no idea was falling), Fatima slogged around the yard, checking my windows. Seeing nothing, she informed me all was well, and off she went.
With Mary taking our kid for her tattoo, I needed a ride for my trip to the doc’s office. Fatima returned to chauffeur my confused self to and from the appointment.
I can’t thank her enough for stepping up like that.
As I said, we’re like a family at the office. Really close and supportive.
But not close enough that anyone wanted to see my rash, however.
