As an update, because I find this ridiculous...
My doctor didn't know what was wrong with me. He said it was a viral something or other so they had to draw blood. FUCK! I hate hate hate needles. At least I didn't cry this time. I was actually proud of myself considering how little I'd eaten in the days before. So they took the little red vials away and told me they'd call when the results were in. I figured I'd hear from them by the end of the day. Wrong! So I got antsy and having the worst headache continued from Friday still throbbing away I called to see if they knew and could get me some meds. The nurse that answered was actually pleasant (a rare thing at this office- the desk people are usually bitches) and informed me that the results wouldn't be in until THE END OF THE FUCKING WEEK. I kid you not! So really I still have no clue what has been wrong with me. All sorts of fun things have crossed my mind, like some crazy brain aneurysm or mono or bird flu or a psychotic tapeworm or whatever but I have spent the past few days wondering if I might die.
But there is good news here. I convinced them to prescribe me pain killers. Tramadol actually. I'm a fan of the name and the pills are so little and cute. I took one right away and it worked completely and made me feel almost stoned for about an hour. The little bottle told me that it may cause dizziness and drowsiness so I shouldn't drink (ha!) or operate complicated machinery when I'm high on them. Good to know right? Oh, and I get a refill on these babies as long as its before March of next year. Woo Woo!
Maybe tomorrow I'll actually find out what has been wrong with me- now that I'm feeling 90% better... Probably not though. I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't find out until Monday, though it'll more likely be Friday. Blah.
So today I cleaned out my sick room. New bedding and all that laundry fun. There was dusting and straightening and taking stock on all the work for school that I had to do. Oh man do I have a lot of work to do!! I got a letter in the mail about "commencement" and my mom kept calling me a journalist. "Oh there, JOURNALISM!" while looking at the grouping for the ceremony times. I wanted to punch her in the ovary.
Love is looking up these days...
My doctor didn't know what was wrong with me. He said it was a viral something or other so they had to draw blood. FUCK! I hate hate hate needles. At least I didn't cry this time. I was actually proud of myself considering how little I'd eaten in the days before. So they took the little red vials away and told me they'd call when the results were in. I figured I'd hear from them by the end of the day. Wrong! So I got antsy and having the worst headache continued from Friday still throbbing away I called to see if they knew and could get me some meds. The nurse that answered was actually pleasant (a rare thing at this office- the desk people are usually bitches) and informed me that the results wouldn't be in until THE END OF THE FUCKING WEEK. I kid you not! So really I still have no clue what has been wrong with me. All sorts of fun things have crossed my mind, like some crazy brain aneurysm or mono or bird flu or a psychotic tapeworm or whatever but I have spent the past few days wondering if I might die.
But there is good news here. I convinced them to prescribe me pain killers. Tramadol actually. I'm a fan of the name and the pills are so little and cute. I took one right away and it worked completely and made me feel almost stoned for about an hour. The little bottle told me that it may cause dizziness and drowsiness so I shouldn't drink (ha!) or operate complicated machinery when I'm high on them. Good to know right? Oh, and I get a refill on these babies as long as its before March of next year. Woo Woo!
Maybe tomorrow I'll actually find out what has been wrong with me- now that I'm feeling 90% better... Probably not though. I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't find out until Monday, though it'll more likely be Friday. Blah.
So today I cleaned out my sick room. New bedding and all that laundry fun. There was dusting and straightening and taking stock on all the work for school that I had to do. Oh man do I have a lot of work to do!! I got a letter in the mail about "commencement" and my mom kept calling me a journalist. "Oh there, JOURNALISM!" while looking at the grouping for the ceremony times. I wanted to punch her in the ovary.
Love is looking up these days...
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