We have had a rough start to the New Year...
2012 was a stressful, fun, busy year... particularly in December. I think that it all caught up with me the day after Christmas with quite a nasty cold. Coughing, sneezing, losing my voice...
[My family laughed because I sounded like Marcel the Shell... Watch it. Hilarious.]
Each day, I woke up feeling worse... but it was just a cold.
ENTER VICIOUS SUPER BACTERIA THAT MADE MY HEAD EXPLODE.
Between my compromised immune system from the cold, and some icky bug, I woke up one morning and noticed my eye was a little swollen. At first I thought maybe it was just sleepy morning eyes from cold-inflicted-not-much-sleep-because-I-couldn't-stop-coughing. I took a shower, got ready for the day and then noticed the swelling was getting worse. (Always a bad sign when you can see the outside of your eyelid when you're not looking in a mirror...) We went to go play games with my family, but by noon, my eye was super swollen.
No, I will not post photos. And I will neither confirm nor deny whether or not I looked like some creepy mix of Quasimodo, a child with a terrible allergy to bee stings who got stung on the eye, Gothmog - Lieutenant of Morgul, and Will Smith in the movie Hitch when he eats shellfish and discovers he's allergic and his face swells up like a balloon. I will neither confirm nor deny.
So, after my brother said, "Shan, I'm worried about your face. You look like a beluga whale," we went to the Instacare.
Now, I've always had great experiences at the Instacare. When I
sliced my finger almost right off, when Brans hurt his back so bad and couldn't move - every time we've gone, we have gotten right in and seen a doctor. No more than 5-10 minute waits. Very friendly but professional staff. Like I said - great experiences.
So, I digress - we went to the Instacare. On New Year's Eve. [I should have known better than to get an infection that required a doctor's attention on a holiday. Remind me - never get sick on a holiday again.] We went to the Instacare closest to my parents house, only to find out they had a 3+ hour wait. Uh... I don't think so. So we drove to the place-formerly-known-as-the-Instacare-closest-to-our-house, only to find out they had moved, and the Urgent Care that took it's place didn't accept our insurance. So, frustrated and now in quite a bit of pain, we went to a third location. They told me the wait was about an hour and apologized that I had to wait. So I found a chair in a corner and sat. And sat. And waited. And sat.
Three and a half hours later, the nurse finally read my name. Yes, it was ridiculous. Yes, I was frustrated. And yes, I would have left and just taken a page out of Will Smith's book and stuck a bendy straw in a bottle of Benadryl and drunk myself to sleep... but while sitting in the waiting room, I could feel my eye getting more and more swollen. So I stayed.
The nurse took me back, got my vitals and then the doctor escorted me to an exam room, where he proceeded to verbally examine me, but didn't ever actually touch my face. He asked me some questions, diagnosed me with just a typical skin infection, noting some sores that appeared on my forehead, and recommended I start taking an antibiotic and gave me a prescription for one and some painkillers, (And a note excusing me from work for a few days. You know you look bad when your doctor basically says, "Yeah, I wouldn't want to go to work either if I looked like that.") as well as a shot of antibiotics to get them in my system. They told me to come back the next day to get another shot just to get on top of the infection.
After waiting so patiently with me, Brans took me home, put a heat press on my head, and went to go pick up my prescription. He's such a great caretaker. Later, my family came over for a low-key New Year's Eve celebration. I mostly sat on the couch all night, watching my family play games, alternating a hot rice bag and a pack of ice on my head.
I hurt all over. My head was pounding. I couldn't breathe from my cold. My throat was sore. I couldn't talk. Every time someone would say something funny, I'd laugh, then cough, then choke, then panic, then cough, then cry, then cough some more.
[This happened several times... My family is funny! At one point, my brothers were talking about all of the fictional characters I resembled in my current state, and Brady chimed in and said, "But Shan, you look normal from behind." And for some reason, it was hilarious. But it sent me into a tailspin. Laugh. Cough. Choke. Cough. Cry. Cough. Laugh. Choke. I actually collapsed on the floor, at one point. Totally and completely miserable.]
An hour or two before midnight, I asked for a priesthood blessing. My family gathered round, and with six worthy priesthood holders in the room, my dad and Brans laid their hands on my head and gave me a blessing. I can't tell you how comforting and peaceful I felt during that minute. Surrounded by my family- our testimonies and faith strong, all of them praying for me. Humbling. And so amazing.
I resumed my spot on the couch, and just tried to take it easy. And told my family to stop being funny so I didn't die. Over the next few hours, the swelling started to decrease. I could open my eye, and the pain meds had kicked in, so I didn't hurt as much. When my family left for the night, I was looking very much improved. I opted to sleep on the couch in an upright position - after several nights of coughing fits, neither Brans or myself had slept well. I decided if he could at least sleep, that would be better. So I found a comfy position on the couch, Brans and Alyna tucked me in with about 15 pillows so I could stay upright all night, and I fell asleep. I had a lot of medication in me, and it knocked me right out, and [from what I can remember] slept quite soundly for a good five hour chunk. [Five hours seems like all night when you've only been sleeping for one or two hours at a time for a week.]
When I woke up, the improved decrease of swelling from the night before had returned, and my eye and side of my face was super swollen, but I could still see a little through my right eye. Alyna gave me some more medicine, and I went back to sleep for a few hours. When I woke up the second time, Brans took me back to the Instacare for the second shot. I hoped our wait wouldn't be as long... And when I checked in at the desk, they told me the wait was an hour. "Even though I'm just here for a follow-up shot?" I was told to be patient and find a seat like the other sick people. Dumb.
So we waited ... again... and almost three hours later they called my name. [Becoming disenchanted with the Instacare? Yes.] And yes, the swelling increased while I waited. [Maybe I'm allergic to waiting at the Instacare.] We went back to another exam room, and a new doctor came in shortly after. He asked me some more questions, said I might have to go to the ER, and then said, "Now, I'm going to just examine this little sore on your head. So why don't you lie down-- Husband, do you want to come hold her hand? This is probably going to be pretty painful for her-- Just remember, I'm not trying to hurt you, just trying to make you better."
Famous last words. Ok, not last. But IT HURT. SOOO badly. I felt like he was hitting my head with a metal baseball bat, over and over and over again. Blinding pain. But I'm tough. I have a high tolerance for [most] pain. He picked, and pushed, and squeezed and picked some more. He kept saying, "I'm not trying to hurt you. Are you ok?" I would grit my teeth and whisper a weak, sickly, "mmhm" as he hit me with another bat. He eventually got some sort of something to come out of the sore and took a swab to run a culture to figure out what it was that was infecting me. He apologized for the pain, [Did I mention that in the long wait, all of the pain meds I had taken that morning had worn off? Bad timing.] told me he would run the culture and then call me when the lab results came in. He said if it got any worse, to got directly to the ER, and he left. Not scary at all, thank you Doctor.
I managed to hold in my tears until he left the room, but the second the door shut, I lost it. I cried and cried into Branson's shoulder for five minutes. [He has such good, broad, manly, comfort-you-when-you-cry shoulders.] The nurse came in to give me another shot, and then we went home. Again, I found my spot on the couch, and rested there the rest of the day. I was so weak, I could barely move. My head felt like it was exploding. My lungs were on fire, and every time I coughed I wanted to rip open my rib cage and take my lungs out, because that would probably have hurt less. Brans and Alyna kept me on a schedule with pain meds, making sure I ate something (though it usually was just saltine crackers. Food just wasn't good. And it's hard to chew when, with each single jaw movement, you feel like you're getting smacked with a 2x4.) and just let me nap on and off all day.
Again, the swelling went down. Significantly. And my spirits improved at the end of the night before I went to bed. But, I woke up with a completely swollen shut eye. The worst it had been. I couldn't open it if I tried prying it open with my fingers. So swollen. I didn't want to go back to the Instacare, because they would send me to the ER. But in some ways, I was feeling better. Brans and Alyna had helped me keep heat on the sore all day and night, so it started drawing out the infection. It was icky. But I could tell progress was being made. I still felt miserable, but now it was more manageable miserable, rather than wanting-to-die miserable.
So again, I spent the day on the couch. So boring. [Pretty sure some of my muscles were thinking about atrophy because I had basically not moved other than to go to the bathroom or the Instacare for multiple days.] But so necessary. During the day, the swelling improved. [Sound familiar?] I slept relatively well. And work up the next day still swollen, but not any more than when I went to bed. Still in pain, but I was coughing less, and could almost breathe. Things were looking up.
Same story the next day - swelling improved, feeling a little better, though it didn't look like it. Then, at 9am on Saturday morning, a nurse from the Instacare called me and said, "Hi Shanna, this is Ashley from the Instacare. We got your lab results back, and it looks like you have MRSA. Please stop taking the antibiotic we gave you immediately and we've called in a new one to your pharmacy for you to take instead. The previous one isn't doing you any good. The infection is resistant to the one you've been taking..." I thanked her for calling, and immediately looked up MRSA on my phone.
MRSA is a "super bacteria" that has mutated and become resistant to several antibiotics that once used to treat it. Somewhere, I picked it up. And we think that because my immune system was so weak already with a terrible cold, my body just shut down when the infection started.
[When I told my mom, she was worried. She's heard horror stories of people who've had MRSA - almost dying, extended stays in the hospital, etc. I've heard a few myself. But, I've also heard from some people that it's now just so common that it's not such a big deal anymore. I BEG TO DIFFER. Kind of a big deal to me. Either way, it's not fun. It's miserable. And painful. But I think I was lucky that it infected me like it did, only spending 10 hours at the Instacare, instead of actually putting me in the hospital.]
And then, my family and I remembered the priesthood blessing I'd been given. And how significantly improved I was from that moment. And how my body had been healing itself, since the infection was resistant to the antibiotics I was taking. And our testimonies of the healing power of the priesthood increased just a little. It's not like I was instantly healed, and we witnessed a great miracle. And it might not be obvious to the doctors at the Instacare. But I firmly believe that the best medicine for me that week was the priesthood blessing I received. I was blessed that my body would heal. That I would be strong enough to heal. And I was.
At the risk of spreading the infection, I've completely sanitized my house, and spent this week working from home. But, Brans and Alyna haven't seem to be infected, so I think I'm in the clear. But, I've been quite wary of going into work. People in my building at work are notorious for coming to work with with all manner of diseases. [A guy I work with showed up the day he was diagnosed with Whooping Cough. DIAGNOSED with WHOOPING COUGH, and he came in to work, coughing, and spreading germs. Ridiculous.] So, I've tried to catch up from home. It's nice that a good portion of my job is done through email, so I've been able to be connected, but safe in my sanitized haven. [Confession: I'm a little nervous to go in on Monday. I'm going to have Lysol and hand sanitzer in my pocket.]
It's been a long couple of weeks. I still don't feel 100%. I still feel a little weak. I don't have all of my energy back, and my voice still sounds ridiculous. But I'm healing. And I "look normal from behind" and from the front [Thanks, Brade. Ha ha].
But, we truly wish everyone a very healthy 2013. Ours didn't start so well, but I'm hoping the rest of the year is filled with health and strength, and this is just getting it out of our system. We're hoping for great things this year. And now, health is at the very top of our list.
So, have a very Healthy New Year.
[I've already been sick enough for the rest of us this year.]
