When You Feel Like Death, But You're Not Sick.

2 A.M.

What is a normal insomniac like me doing up at such an early hour, you may ask. Well, this is when I catch the second wind of inspiration and write well into the night with Maddie. This, however, was no ordinary morning. I was surprisingly on my way to bed when the grim reaper decided to visit; a burning ache in my chest. Flourishing, I looked at the container of fried fish (so much for my diet.) and wondered to myself if I had an acid reflux flare up. This wasn’t how I meant to spend the first day of my “vacation” from writing, but I’d been through worse. So, what does a chronically sleep deprived woman do? Does she sit up and find something on YouTube to watch? Or does she say, “I can handle the dragon” and lay down anyway? Ladies and gentleman if you guessed the former, you have way too much faith in me.

Laying down, I instantly felt the lava seep through my chest and into my throat. Do I sit up? No. Do I walk around? No. Do I at least take an antacid? Psh. Who needs that when lady sleep and mister sandman want your attention? Two sleepless hours was all it took when the dragon I dare challenged within me rose. With one single burp, I could have cooked Thanksgiving dinner for everyone on my block. I have never felt such pain in my throat, such rawness, and burning in my life! Freddie Kruger had nothing on me. Oh…too soon?

NOW, what would be the next stupid thing a woman delirious from both pain and sleep do? Why, she goes to WebMD of course. I was convinced I had cancer of the throat for twenty minutes. So, convinced that I woke my husband, my poor fool, and told him “What are you going to do when I’m gone?” His answer: “Get some damn sleep.” How lovely.

Finally, after trying to sit up and sleep (too late for that I may add) I told DJ I was ready to go to Prompt Care. They didn’t open until 8. Great, I have two hours to go. 6:30 rolls around, he wakes up, I fall asleep and he waits for Little Miss Lulu to wake up. Now, do you think that DJ, knowing I have the flaming dragon of hell in my chest, would wake me up at a decent time and say “Oh, it’s time to get dressed” NOPE! I wake up at 7:22. I shower, brush my teeth, and I leave the bedroom to see…DJ, playing a video game. If that wasn’t my system or my game, it’d be destroyed.

When I opened my mouth…nothing came. This only brought a sick, happy smile across his lips because now he didn’t have to hear me nag. In the ten-minute ride to the doctor, you wouldn’t believe how many times I heard “What?” or “Speak up.” So much so I wanted to go KAPOW! but this is a semi-family blog and I do not incite violence unless it’s absolutely necessary. This time, I needed to get to the doctor, so his life held meaning.

Fast forward. I’m sitting on the examination table, I can’t talk, and the nurse practitioner is giving me the generic checkup. Lungs are clear, throat is clear, ears clear, no temperature, I’m as healthy as a horse. They look at me in puzzlement and say, “Well we won’t swap for strep.” -cue maniacal laughter- The hell you won’t! So, in enters the CMA. A cute, hippie type girl with glasses and a bright blue hair band. She holds up this long Q-tip and says, “I’m going to swab ya now!” I looked her calmly in the face, blinked several times, and promptly told her, “I hope I don’t throw up on you.”

This woman slowly straightened up, crab walked towards the cabinets and took out a paper apron. Mind you, she had crazy, “I don’t think so.” Eyes and all. She prepared herself and told me, “There! Now we’re all good.” She pressed my tongue down, swabbed it up and talked about how she got a, “good chunk” of whatever was in my throat. Whatever that meant. She leaves the room and, after a few minutes, returned with her hands on her hips. “So that’s going to take a while, I have a quick question, would you like some popsicles?” What was that? Something cold and delicious to ease the fireplace in my throat? Why yes, Pink please! Lulu asked for red and, when she prompted DJ, I told her that he made fun of me. I don’t know what kind of tip this girl was going for, but she told him, “Oh then no pop for you.” and left. Good, gooooood she’s on my side.

After a few minutes with popsicles in hand, I finally get the test results back. I don’t have strep. APPARENTLY, I have an allergic reaction. To what? AIR? All in all, they gave me strong pain killers, a strong twenty-four-hour allergy pill, and a steroid. To make a long story short, dear readers, I’m going to be heavily medicated and high as a kite. Perhaps finally, now, I can get some sleep. That’s the end of this story. What are some crazy illnesses or doctor’s visits you’ve had? I’d love to hear about them. After all, we’re all in this life together. Share it.