It's Palpable

Apologies. I've been laid out sick the past few of days and had absolutely zero motivation to do anything except watch David Attinborough narrate a documentary about birds. It's an awesome documentary. If you have Netflix, instant stream that shit!

I went to the ER on Saturday night (it wasn't a real emergency, but it was Saturday night and my normal doctor was not available), got poked a bit, and was given medication that was presumably supposed to fix me and make my pain stop. The medication caused chills, fever, headache, nausea, and stiff muscles. My doctor is out of town but her nurses or PAs or whatever they are said I could come in and they would be able to determine if my issue was cleared up.

"Hooray!" they say, after a few minutes of waiting. "The medication worked!"

"Then why am I still in near-excruciating pain?" I queried.

They looked at each other and said, "Ionno."

So I have another appointment on Friday to see a real doctor and hopefully get this whole thing cleared up. It's nice to know that the medication worked and got rid of one part of this pain equation, but it's disconcerting to know that something is still wrong, causing lots of pain, and no one yet knows what it is.

Like any good child of the Age of the Internet, I promptly went to WebMD and looked up my symptoms. WebMD told me I have cancer. Or lupus. Or a blood clotting disorder. Or a flesh-eating bacteria on my insides.


At least Camille isn't sick.