The Mystery Illness
“You look like shit.” My doctor said that to me last Wednesday and I think it sums up the last two weeks perfectly. I’ve never felt so shitty in my life, I doubt I even felt this level of shittyness when I had influenza a few years back, or that horrible UTI which knocked me off my feet last year.
The blood results came back yesterday, they called to tell me that I’m negative for whooping cough. So hopefully people will stop making up excuses like “oh, I can’t come round because, umm, I just cut my legs off” to stay away from me. I can’t get in to see my doctor until next Monday, “she’s not in” I was told. Not in? Aren’t doctors meant to be superior beings who never get sick and because of this they are forced to write so poorly?
“An American cardiologist was fined $225 000 in 1999 after scrawling a prescription that was misunderstood, resulting in the death of a patient. Ramachandra Kolluru wrote a prescription for Isordil, an antianginal drug, which was misread by the pharmacist as Plendil, an antihypertensive drug. The patient took twice the recommended daily dose of Plendil and died of a heart attack several days later.”
I’m guessing that I should keep taking the antibiotics I’m on since she didn’t really cover what to do if it wasn’t whooping cough. They (the antibiotics) cover most respiratory problems and seem to be helping. I am slowly starting to feel better. I’m sleeping a solid five hours at night and today was the first day that the clouds in my mind had cleared and I could get some work done. Glorious clear mind, how I missed thee.
I am quite annoyed with this mystery illness, so far, I’ve missed Perths first blogging conference (which I hear was fantastic) and Halloween. Melbourne cup day also passed me by today. My cup day shoes and dress sit in a draw crying silently, the shoes can be heard mumbling something about how my feet aren’t good enough for them. I promised I’d make it up to them, take them out for a night on the town when I’m well, they just pouted their heel.
If I get worse I’ll try to get in to see another doctor, otherwise, all I can do is watch Oprah and knit more scarfs to add to the pile. I’m turning into one of those people who watch way too much TV and say “Oprah said…”