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I woke up today feeling mostly fine. Leg was a little achey, but nothing to worry about. However, the big blotch of purpley colored skin was still on my leg, and I wanted to make sure the infection was actually gone since I run out of antibiotics tomorrow, so I got up at six am so I could make an appointment with New Doctor to give me the okay.
So, I take a short nap, then head out for my appointment around one. Things are great! No more bed rest, no more antibiotics after I finish this round... one bad bit in that my leg is now scarred, but New Doctor thinks it will fade somewhat in the next few months and shouldn't be too noticeable after that. I politely did not show her the cat scratch scar I got in early October that is still clearly visible on my arm because, at this point, I've resigned myself to having what looks like a six inch birth mark on my leg.
Then, she schedules a few more appointments for me this month - female exams, eye doctor, generic whatnot that Primary Care Doctors tend to do - and sends me off to the Pharmacy to pick up some Probiotics to help counteract all the damage 15 days of double antibiotics can do.
That's when disaster struck!
It was really freakin' hot in the lobby of the Pharmacy. Really hot. I noticed, because I was sweating even though my skin felt cold and clammy. Then the light headness kicked in. Then came the vomiting and... other issues. By the time I actually managed to talk to the Pharmacist, I must have looked like pale, washed out death because she put my butt in a wheelie chair and had someone push me to the ER.
I do not blame the staff of the ER for the fact that I sat there, wishing I was dead, curled up in a fetal position in a wheelie chair, for nearly four hours before someone took me to the back to check on me. The ER was BUSY. There were little kids with bleeding head wounds and broken arms, ambulances coming up the back entrance over and over, and broken soldiers and their battle buddies EVERYWHERE. Compared to those cases, my barfing and intestinal distress were justifiably low on the totem pole, and someone did give me a barf bag and wheeled me over near the bathroom so it was all good.
Honestly, after four hours, whatever the hell decided to attack my system had had its fun and begun to wander away, so by the time I was taken back to a room, I almost felt human and hadn't ralphed for over an hour. Still, they wanted me to stay and get looked at by a doctor who told me A) I was not pregnant - duh, and B) I was dehydrated - again, duh.
His best guess is that I've managed to catch a secondary infection caused by the antibiotics I've been taking for the first infection (That I have supposedly beaten, woot!), but he can't confirm it yet.
Eventually, eight hours after I arrived at the hospital, I was finally released and managed to get myself home before nine pm, where I finally got something to eat for the day.
tl;dr - Went to hospital for routine doc visit, Cellulitus "gone", will be scarred, got horrifically sick waiting in the pharmacy, ended up in ER again for nearly seven hours, possible secondary infection, and finally a sammich.
So, I take a short nap, then head out for my appointment around one. Things are great! No more bed rest, no more antibiotics after I finish this round... one bad bit in that my leg is now scarred, but New Doctor thinks it will fade somewhat in the next few months and shouldn't be too noticeable after that. I politely did not show her the cat scratch scar I got in early October that is still clearly visible on my arm because, at this point, I've resigned myself to having what looks like a six inch birth mark on my leg.
Then, she schedules a few more appointments for me this month - female exams, eye doctor, generic whatnot that Primary Care Doctors tend to do - and sends me off to the Pharmacy to pick up some Probiotics to help counteract all the damage 15 days of double antibiotics can do.
That's when disaster struck!
It was really freakin' hot in the lobby of the Pharmacy. Really hot. I noticed, because I was sweating even though my skin felt cold and clammy. Then the light headness kicked in. Then came the vomiting and... other issues. By the time I actually managed to talk to the Pharmacist, I must have looked like pale, washed out death because she put my butt in a wheelie chair and had someone push me to the ER.
I do not blame the staff of the ER for the fact that I sat there, wishing I was dead, curled up in a fetal position in a wheelie chair, for nearly four hours before someone took me to the back to check on me. The ER was BUSY. There were little kids with bleeding head wounds and broken arms, ambulances coming up the back entrance over and over, and broken soldiers and their battle buddies EVERYWHERE. Compared to those cases, my barfing and intestinal distress were justifiably low on the totem pole, and someone did give me a barf bag and wheeled me over near the bathroom so it was all good.
Honestly, after four hours, whatever the hell decided to attack my system had had its fun and begun to wander away, so by the time I was taken back to a room, I almost felt human and hadn't ralphed for over an hour. Still, they wanted me to stay and get looked at by a doctor who told me A) I was not pregnant - duh, and B) I was dehydrated - again, duh.
His best guess is that I've managed to catch a secondary infection caused by the antibiotics I've been taking for the first infection (That I have supposedly beaten, woot!), but he can't confirm it yet.
Eventually, eight hours after I arrived at the hospital, I was finally released and managed to get myself home before nine pm, where I finally got something to eat for the day.
tl;dr - Went to hospital for routine doc visit, Cellulitus "gone", will be scarred, got horrifically sick waiting in the pharmacy, ended up in ER again for nearly seven hours, possible secondary infection, and finally a sammich.
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