It started Sunday night, I think. It was that final glass of chocolate milk that sent my allergies into overdrive. This isn’t good news. This may mean that chocolate may be off my list like chicken is, but I digress. I’ve eaten way too much chocolate over the Christmas holiday, and the chocolate milk was irresistible. So I downed an 8 oz glass full before bed and it was yummy.
Monday morning, the left side of my face started to swell. My breathing was a bit raspy, so I figured it was an allergic reaction, most likely caused by my overindulgence with chocolate. I took a series of benedryl that evening, figuring that I’d wake up to some relief, but when I woke up this morning, my face was still swollen (though my breathing was better). Swollen as in I looked as if I’d put a Hollywood fat suit on half my body.
The fever started this morning, so I decided to go to the doctor’s office. Whatever it was, it was out of control and I can ill afford to let an illness get to me. Better to stay on top of things.
First was the insurance fiasco, which, I was not in the humor for given the pain in my face and the fever. The lady at the window said, “your insurance has changed your primary care physician.” We are in a transitory period as far as insurance is concerned, but that should not have happened. I called my insurance person at work, she assures me that shouldn’t have happened. The lady at the window calls my insurance, I talk to the lady and we get things changed. After waiting forty minutes past my supposed appointment time, I was in an examination room.
The nurse made me get on the scale. Not only have I gained weight (ugh) but she asserted that the swelling in my face did not account for the difference in the weight. I waited for the doctor and wondered exactly what was wrong with me.
Mumps? An infection? A severe allergic reaction that the benedryl couldn’t handle?
Well, I showed him a spot on the back of my leg that was infected and then he asked me what else I was here for. He looked at me and saw my face and I could tell he was concerned. He saw the blisters (which had just popped in that morning) and hurriedly wrote a prescription and told me to RUN, not walk to the pharmacy, and take the first pill as soon as possible.
“You have shingles,” he said. (see: Web MD – Shingles)
I think, I have shingles, and not the kind you put on a roof. Great.
“Old people get shingles,” I said.
He smiles. “Not always.”
“Am I contagious?”
“Well, for the next day or so, you might not want to share your phone or cook for anyone, that sort of thing, but you could sit in an office and not bother anybody.” He goes on to tell me that after I get a few doses in me, it will be better. I still have a fever as I type this, so I doubt I go to work tomorrow regardless.
My roommate came home and baptized everything (including the remote) with Lysol, which got me all paranoid about what I’ve touched and who I’ve talked to in the last two days. That I can remember, I haven’t touched any pregnant friends or babies recently, and definitely none since last week, so it seems to be all good in that area. She says I can relax on that note.
I’m in a bit of pain, but it’s not that bad, considering I got the medication in less than 72 hours after the initial onset of symptoms. So I will rest and take meds tomorrow and go back to work and try to act like I’m not typhoid Mary. ha ha
And how are things in your world?
P. S. You can’t get shingles from reading this blog.