So, I'm back from the amazing J&J three day whirlwind, and you are certainly wondering where my recap might be.
Gooooood question. Let me tell you.
Thursday morning, I woke at 6 with a headache. NOT a migraine, just a simple, garden variety headache. I rifled through my suitcase with the torn zipper (thanks SO much, Continental Airlines! A big wet kiss to you!) and realized that I'd forgotten to pack my pharmacology stores - I always travel with ibuprofen, tylenol PM, bandaids, Imitrex and a few other oddities.) It wasn't there.
So I went to the first session and half way through, Twittered to the other attendees, requesting ibuprofen. Lovely, lovely Christina came to my rescue. I took 800 mgs and prayed. It was not enough. I took 800 more mgs (I know, shut up already) at about 4. I took a nap. I prayed. I realized that it had become a migraine at some point in the day.
I went to dinner and begged for chemical relief. The intern took pity on me and LEFT the dinner mid meal and ran for Excedrin Migraine and Tylenol PM. In the pouring rain - I would have her child if I could. I took the EM and continued with the dinner. Briefly wondered about the wisdom in taking the tylenol PM at bedtime - midnight - but proceeded to do so. Wondered if I should leave a note, explaining that it wasn't a purposeful overdose, but then realized I was probably being melodramatic.
Friday I woke feeling ok - slight headache and weak from not eating much the day before. Without thinking, I gulped down a handful of vitamins. Immediately, I became very nauseous and decided that it was in my best interest to get some coffee - the scheduled breakfast was at least an hour in the future. Got some, headache still remained.
It stayed with me in moderate form all Friday and Friday night. Saturday was my son's First Communion, and when I woke up, it wasn't pretty. I hurt really badly. I sucked it up and went through the ceremony, because this was the MOST important day to him and I wasn't going to screw it up. When we went to breakfast, I ate nothing - I knew I'd get sick. I even went for a chiropractic adjustment and deep sinus massage - nada.
When we got home, we were supposed to go to two parties, but I went to bed for an hour. Or so I thought - in reality, I slept off and on for four hours, waking only to vomit and cry - usually in that order. Finally at 5, I realized that I'd need some help and had my son drive me to the freestanding emergency clinic. I sat in the waiting room, scaring various children in my pink Hello Kitty pants, blue bedroom slippers, and mascara sliding down my face as I alternated with sleeping and crying. I looked like a drug addict.
The doctor didn't know how to help me, so he wanted to know what type of drugs I thought I'd need. All I could do was stare at him. I finally said, "Just give me something, because if you don't, I'm going to take a shovel to my head."
"That bad, huh? Well, I can give you Demerol - would you like 25, 50 or 100 mgs?"
He didn't even KNOW how much to give me. I stared at him blankly, repeated the promise to do damage to my head, and he said,"Alright, then, 100 mgs of Demerol and 50 of Phenegran." Thank you.
I received the injection, went out to the truck and got in. My son was driving, and asked if we could stop for ice cream. I agreed, but told him that we'd need to hurry before the medicine took affect and I was a zombie. I noticed a car in the lane next to us swerving, and told my son to hang back a bit. He started to brake,
and the guy hit our front panel. He pulled out away from us when my son came to a complete stop, pulled back in front of us and pulled across the rest of the traffic lanes. He went in the exit of the shopping center, popped up the curb with his left tires, and sped through the parking lot and exited, moving in the opposite direction. I grabbed my phone to call 911, looked over and noticed that there was a police officer parked in the lot, so I quickly explained the situation to the dispatcher, hung up the phone, and had my son pull into the lot. We came up next to the officer and began to explain the situation. He looked at us and said, "I didn't see anything happen." He got out, checked the truck and said, "I see no damage. Are you sure he hit you?"
At that moment, I felt all of the medicine dump in my body. I blinked a few times and realized that, if I wasn't careful, I'd be in trouble, because I wasn't going to be able to stay awake, make sense in a conversation, or even talk. "Concentrate", I told myself. "Do not slur your words. This is important. Focus." My son has his permit, but he's supposed to drive with an unimpaired adult - something I knew I was going to be if I sat out much longer. I got back in the car and let him handle it as much as he could.
He did, too. He handled himself very well. He didn't get upset, he didn't argue, he didn't curse. He even shook the officer's hand. They put out a BOL - be on lookout - for the SUV that hit us - I did have the presence of mind to look at that. And, suddenly, there was another accident on the road in the direction that the car sped off, so that may have led some credence to our story.
We left the scene, got his ice cream, and I went immediately to bed. I slept all night and half of today. I no longer have a headache, but I still feel very weak and disoriented. I'm thirsty beyond belief and unable to hold a thought for a long time. My mad typing skilz are shot too - this entry took about 2 hours because I kept having to backspace.
But I no longer have a headache, and there was no damage to the truck. And my son was able to have his first car accident with me, so that hurdle has been crossed.
Silver lining in all, eh?