Always Something

It’s sort of always something with me. Really. My brother, who I believe is quite fond of me, calls me a disaster magnet. I don’t like that, although I am quite fond of my brother. But I will admit, things happen to me that don’t necessarily happen to the next fella, or at least, not as frequently. Things like a whole host of weird health stuff, for pretty much my whole life. Things like getting laid off and then a couple of weeks later having my appendix rupture and not knowing better, walking around it with it for 3 days before driving myself to emergency. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to run to emergency for every little thing, like searing pain on my side? Right? Or things like having a gastric ulcer and ending up in the hospital days before I was scheduled to move across the country. It’s always something.
Other things too. Like that time I was robbed 4 days before Christmas, and had all of my gifts for everyone stolen. Or, and we are going back decades, but still, missing my flight home from Paris and being stranded, completely broke, in Europe until my very angry, and at the time cash strapped, parents could scrape up enough money to get me home. Oh, how about being stuck on the New Jersey turnpike for 7 hours in a snow storm? In a taxi? For all of these things, I have tried as best I could to manage them with as much grace and humor as possible. It’s easier sometimes than others, and maturity, or what can pass for maturity, has definitely made it easier.
So, here’s the latest, if not disaster, hmmmmm, we will call it a hiccup in the life of Kathi Sue Gold. I had been feeling just generally poorly for the last few weeks. Achy and exhausted and with a sore throat that wouldn’t go away. I thought maybe I had the post-holiday, winter blues. I genuinely worried that I had finally passed the peak and had started the slow descent into old age, where everything basically hurts all the time. It was too soon! I was too young! But I wasn’t feeling better, and so, trying to learn from my past, I finally took myself to the doctor a couple of weeks ago, where I was diagnosed with strep throat.
Aha, I thought, now I can get better! I dutifully took my little Z pack and looked forward to the return of energy and joie de vivre. But it didn’t happen. A week later I still had the sore throat and the exhaustion so I emailed the doctor who assured me that the 5 day Z pack actually takes 10 days to work and all would be well, but it wasn’t.
A few nights ago, I woke up with the worst throat pain I’ve ever known. I couldn’t swallow. My glands were swollen and I had a high fever. Like I said, I’ve had a lot of medical shit in my life, so I try to take things in stride, but I felt awful, really really bad. I was a bit scared. I even called the doctor’s office at 4:00 in the morning, not really knowing what I wanted but just wanted my condition known by someone. But when the answering service asked me if it was an emergency, I said no. I may have felt like death but I knew my demise was not imminent.
I got into the doctor later that day, and after a bunch of tests and scans the results were in. The strep was still present, apparently resistant to the Z pack. And, as a special bonus gift, I also tested positive for mononucleosis. For which there is no real cure except a lengthy period of rest.
So first of all, mono? Really? Isn’t that something teenagers get, not mature women? And, isn’t that known as the kissing disease? I really wish I had some sort of wild and sexy origin story here, like I went to a rodeo and I got so carried away I made out with the winning bull rider. Or something like that. But the truth is, I honestly have no idea how I picked this sucker up. No one I know has it. And tragically, at least in my mind, I haven’t been kissing anyone. Got to work on that, but perhaps I should wait 4 to 6 weeks.
Because that, allegedly, is how long it takes to recover from mono, more or less. When I asked the doctor how I would know when I was better, she said, because you will feel better. Okay, then, clear as mud. And when I asked her to define rest, she said whenever you’re tired, rest. Not so helpful, because I am tired all the time, although I guess there are degrees to it.
How do I feel, honestly? Sick, grumpy, bored, housebound, discouraged. Completely exhausted. With a headache and sore throat and a cough that just started. Last night, just lying on the couch watching TV, I suddenly felt so bad I pulled a throw over myself and curled up in a ball and just went to sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night with Daisy lying on top of me, like she was protecting me from harm. Or getting ready to eat me, either way.
But here’s the deal. Even in all my sad, sick grumpiness, I know this is just temporary. I’ll get better. People deal with far worse, all the time. So, I’m trying as best as I can to take care of myself, keep perspective, and a sense of humor, and remember it’s just a moment in time. Counting my blessings, which always helps no matter how bad I feel. I’ll recover from this most inconvenient illness and stay alert for the next unexpected wrinkle that comes my way. After all, it’s always something.
The end, for now

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One response

  1. For similar reasons, my brother used to call me “problem child”. 🙂

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