So since coming down with whatever this is last Thursday, on Monday, I finally made it to the after-hours clinic to be seen, as I still feel like utter crap. After what felt like a billion years, I finally got seen.
When two separate clinicians look at my med list, look at me, and ask me how old I am again, and how can someone as young as I am be on so many meds? It’s odd and makes me feel sort of sad, and maybe old and frail. Granted, EVERYTHING is on my med list, including my multivitamin and all the other supplements I take, because I am a bit OCD about that. I just hand over the emergency form I keep in my wallet when I go to the doctor to make their lives easier. (Most pharmacies have a wallet-sized emergency form available for free; I highly recommend getting one and letting people know it’s in your wallet if there is an emergency at work, or something. All of my family members and all of my coworkers know where it’s kept and HR has the full list as a backup. Which reminds me, I need to update HR’s list.) Once you only list medication that is actually prescribed to me, the list goes from about twelve to six medications. …Which is still a lot of medication for someone who’s only 28, but with three chronic conditions to manage, I think six isn’t too bad.
Of course, I have clients on only one or two medications, but they are also much, much sicker than I. I also actively seek to continually improve my mental status while most of them still vehemently deny being sick and want off ALL their medication, so there’s that.
Anyway, after a rapid flu test (which involves sticking one of those long q-tips up your NOSE, blegh) the doctor came and prescribed me half a pharmacy. My lungs evidently sound so bad, he thought I had asthma, and was surprised to hear I don’t, and have no family history of it, and after living in Cincinnati, the allergy capital of the world, for six years thus far with no ill effect (other than needing claritin daily instead of just in the spring, thank you, mold count), I don’t think I’m going to spontaneously develop asthma any time soon. So now I’m on an antibiotic, cough syrup with codeine in it, steroids to help with inflammation, and a prednisone inhaler to use for a week. (Which has 200 puffs in it, and that makes me sad, because I hate wasting medication but can’t very well give it to someone else…) Thankfully there was enough on my health savings card to cover all of them. They tried to give me that chamber for an extra twelve dollars, but I teach clients how to use inhalers properly all the time, I think I can figure out how to use one myself. It’s weird, I thought it would feel different than it does. Cold, maybe, or with a medicine-y aftertaste. It’s just… nothing. Regular air as far as my tastebuds can tell. Granted, I haven’t really tasted anything in five days, so maybe it does taste like something?
So I’m super thrilled that now I have to be off ANOTHER day because whatever the hell is wrong with me is likely contagious so I need 24 hours of antibiotics in my system. I’m pretty ok with this, as just going to the doctor and pharmacy had me exhausted anyway, and the three flights of stairs to my apartment damn near killed me. Not having the income’s gonna hurt, but at least I won’t be, y’know, giving whatever this crap is to everyone else just for it to come back around to me. That has happened before. It mutated JUST enough to get me sick AGAIN after wandering through the whole office. Thank you, compromised immune system. You suck.
So now my sleep cycle’s borked to all hell because I spent four days in bed, and thus I am writing this post at 4:38 on Tuesday morning, because I am wide awake and sort of worried about taking the prescription cough syrup with nyquil as I don’t know the active ingredients and can’t be arsed to find the sheet now that my cat has knocked it onto the floor. She’s been a royal pest this whole time, too; my table had been nice and neat, with just one pile to go through to file, and she decided it needed to be on the floor and EVERYWHERE so I’ll be finding bills under the couch for a week.
While I was at Walgreens, I did buy a few staple items, as I didn’t think I could manage the grocery store and I was already waiting for my prescriptions. Though the difference in cost very nearly gave me a heart attack, so I stuck with bread, peanut butter, oatmeal, and diet coke, because I haven’t had caffeine since Thursday and I think I might die. I haven’t drank any yet because I’d like to have SOME semblance of a sleep cycle sorted out by tomorrow, though at the rate I’m going I highly doubt it. Getting up for work on Wednesday is going to be AWESOME.
So that’s the general state of the Nadja. I haven’t hallucinated in about 24 hours, I have most of a pharmacy to go with the pharmacy already in my medicine cabinet, and I’m still coughing up a lung, but at least I’m on the path to recovery. Maybe. I think.