Back From the Brink of Death...
Hello everyone! I’m back from the brink of death and I for one can tell you that I’m more than happy to be back. Okay, death is maybe a small exaggeration on my behalf. It was more like the suffering of the saints on a bad day.
I know you’re thinking I’m still overstating my now remedied situation. And I say unto you…
Yes I am.
Well, I'm not.
Maybe if I explain what I’ve been going through for the last week or so you all will be able to feel my pain.
It all started with an allergy, or so I thought, and ended with me being on enough antibiotics to cure a horse or two of whatever bacterial infection ailed them. I went to bed early after taking a Benadryl last Wednesday to cure a mild stuffy nose and a scratchy throat. The next morning I soon realized that my symptoms worsened to the 100th power. I could barely swallow and it felt as if tiny people were stabbing the inside of my ears with tiny daggers while massive amounts of pain ripped down the back of my neck as my brain felt as if it would burst inside of my head. And the pain only intensified with every horrific swallow.
Proof positive that there are tiny people that wield havoc on ears with their tiny daggers! The appearance of these only being earrings is misleading and pretty bold on their behalf if you ask me.
I was convinced I was dying and my end was to be carried out while I wore Polk-a-dot pajamas. In my mind it had to be meningitis, but once I made it to the doctor later that day I was relieved to find out it wasn’t. Even though my lease on life was firmly renewed, I found out that I had a double ear infection and both of my eardrums had ruptured because of it. That was why I was in so much pain and the pain in my head and neck was an after effect of the primary problem. I was given horse pills to be taken way too many times in one day and some ear drops. Then I was sent to suffer on my own until the medicine could work its magic on me and my poor ears.
The pain I was in kept me from being too happy about me not dying. I was also convinced that my daughter, who was sick only a week beforehand, was the culprit of my suffering; even though she had totally different symptoms than I had. Being a nurse meant that I knew it was actually very unlikely. However, pain has a way of making you place blame on anyone and anything to make yourself feel better. So, I laid in bed thinking of the hugs and cuddles I gave her trying to make her feel better as she went through being sick for a whole week. I even kept her company as her dad and brother treated her as if she had the plague. While I felt miserable in my own sickbed I changed my earlier mind and started to think they were the ones that had it right.
It’s actually funny how bad ideas seem like such good ones at the time. Just like drinking your friends under the table in your twenties only to feel like the walking dead the very next day. And you swear never to do that to yourself again as long as you live. Or being Mama Bear and acting as if you’re invincible to take care of your cubs only to get sick yourself, swearing you will keep your distance the next time while you do your mothering. Just like the drinking in your twenties, as a mother you will most definitely mother too closely again.
It took about a week for those God-sent meds to really start making a difference. It might sound as if I’m being sarcastic, but I am not. The first day I was able to swallow without cursing the whole world was a wondrous day indeed. I even slightly contemplated if I should place a small shrine up in honor of Alexander Fleming, the inventor of Penicillin. I guess if I did that would have to do since the inventor of Amoxicillin isn’t named directly. All the information I could find on him was that he invented Amoxicillin in the 1970’s and he was British. However in my quest for his identity I did find some other facts that were very interesting… And now I’m going to share them!
During ancient times, the Greeks used molds and other plants to treat infections. In Greece, one of these wonder cure-all items came in the form of moldy bread that was traditionally used to treat wounds and the infections caused by them. Peasants in Russia didn’t use the bread treatment, but they did use warm soil to cure their infected wounds. And dating even further back, the Babylonian doctors healed the eyes using a mixture of frog bile and sour milk. That last treatment sounds really gross, I hope they didn’t have to drink it and I’m happy huge pink pills are the worst part of what I had to go through to partake in all the antibiotics' healing properties.
Open your wounds and mouths!
So here’s to my health and the health of so many others because the wonderful gift of antibiotics. Now I have a crap ton of writing to get back to and catch up on. Wish me luck on my mad dash towards my delayed weekly goals and pray for the men in my house to stay well so I don’t have to play nursemaid for a while and chance another brush with death. Happy Friday everyone!
