Well, it's that time of year when everything below my belly button gets a sense of humor. Nothing below my belly button is funny to me, rather it tends to be a messy area in constant need of hygiene, grooming and telling it that it's very pretty.
So, I had my first interview in months yesterday, coupled with pelvic pain (probably a bladder infection, who knows) for weeks. Imagine smiling through the feeling of an elephant on your bladder for an hour. That is some SERIOUS faking.
I relented and started on antibiotic I keep on hand for such things, doesn't it always happen over a weekend or when on holiday? I was mad as hell about it, not just because I've been uncomfortable, in pain, and unable to sleep..... but because how much of a pill phobe I am. I read those fucking drug printouts that come with the prescription as though I was studying for final exams. And because I rarely to damn near never take anything, I'm hyper sensitive and even a small anitbiotic wipes me out and I go wonky. For extra fun the side effects of pills are sometimes worse than the actual damn illness so I get to decide which organs I prefer more, my liver and kidneys, or my urinary tract. Picky chosey, do I flip a fucking coin or what? Bah.
I've taken this medicine before, begrudgingly, but I had trusted it. Pill two (hiding in the closet as to not tout my inability to swallow medicine without gagging like a pet does) and my legs went numb. Just my inner thighs but it got my attention. It subsided later in the day so I figured, fuck it, take your normal dose.
Woke up at 3 am this morning numb city from my boobs to feet. Not to say I couldn't move, but my skin sensation was completely dulled. Not the sort of numb you get up and think you can walk off. In DM's mind, this means the numbness is creeping north to my brain to numb it too until I die.
/ poke "Baby."
/snort "What."
"I can't feel my boobs."
"Me neither." he says and rolls over while smacking sleepy lips.
"No I'm serious, totally freaking out over here."
"Well why are you feeling your boobs at 3am?"
"Because....." I started to explain that I wasn't getting myself to second base, but that I noticed during a bed flop. "That doesn't matter, I'm really scared!"
Not kidding folks, from collarbone to toes, could barely feel anything. I walked fine, or as fine as I do walk, but it was frightening and the dance of to-go or not to-go to emergency played in my head. Being a nervous sort, one really has to weigh whether it's somewhat psychosomatic, or if this time is the REAL one.
At this point it's' mostly subsided except that I cannot feel my feet. I feel like a double peg-legged pirate.
We also have a mouse - or many mice that look like the same culprit. So I'm loopy on antibiotics and now high on bleach for spraying down feces. Last thing I need when not feeling well is even the idea of Hanta popping into my brain. I'm not freaking out, annoyed would be more accurate, just want to begin feeling better, and being very impatient on why I can't have an insta cure. My only goal today is not to be hassled. That's not asking much but sure as fuck, mice poo, filthy laundry that Mister thinks washes itself, dishes, a dog who scooting because he wants his glands checked, and I'm about two minutes from screaming that I'm taking the day off! Feed yourselves, figure out where I keep the cleanser and pitch in, off duty! If my bladder or vag falls onto the floor in a gory mess of vile, it's all their greedy selfish faults lol.
- DM
