Okay, so not really glamorous, but you get the point.
I’ve been sick. Really sick. Not your average run-of-the-mill sick here. But, at least when I get sick, I never go halfway! Can I get an AMEN? (crickets.) Hmph.
As some of you may know from other various social networks, I had a fever for about twelve days (in total). Hubs convinces me at around day seven that I need to see a doc, and does so by sneaking me Swine Flu articles. Cute huh? Well, I go in and the doc says I have F.U.O. What is F.U.O. you ask? Well, it’s short for Fever of Unknown Origin. Catchy, don’tchathink? Me, hm, not so much.
Now, If you’re squeemish and don’t want to be subsequently grossed out, or just aren’t interested in knowing T.M.I. (that’s too much information in case you’re not up with the lingo—I certainly wasn’t) go ahead and stop reading HERE. If you’re the brave-of-heart, I thank you and ask you to please continue ...
So, I begrudgingly take the antibiotic the doc prescribes to treat my F.U.O. No tests, no listening. Just “here’s the diagnosis, and here’s your drugs, now be on your way!”. Not cool.
So a few days later, some new—ahem—symptoms arise. I have diarrhea. Bad to the point where I’m in the bathroom with my Catholic prayer book crossing myself on the toilet like the fledgling little Catholic that I am thinking about I’m about to die—diarreah.
Then, the blood comes. And it’s a lot. So, hubs offers up some Imodium. I read the back of the box and it says “seek medical attention if you’re bleeding from places you shouldn’t be.” Awesome.
Conveniently, we have an Urgent Care (like an after hours doctor’s office) that I can see from my front door. I haul myself over there and sign in:
Name: Katie
Symptoms: Fever for twelve days and bleeding from places I shouldn’t be bleeding from.
The look on the nurse’s face was priceless. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone in the medical profession move so quickly!
There was a line of patients ahead of me, but I guess bleedin’ from your butt gets you the Urgent Care version of Disney’s fastpass.
I’m ushered into the back to STAND in the hallway to talk to the doctor and nurse. They both inform me that they won’t even see me because of my symptoms and tell me to go straight to the ER as she thinks I might have Crohn’s Disease. Um, excuse me?
So I do what any good patient would do. I go home and Google Crohn’s disease. Screw the ER, I am not going at this point. I call my doc on call instead and explained to him what was going on. He told me to immediately throw the antibiotic away, as it might be irritating my bowels. DUH! Then I was instructed to call in the morning to get some tests done and be seen again—but the only person available was the first doc who gave me the antibiotic. Good times!
So I follow instructions—yet again—and come in at 9:45 a.m. Not a minute sooner though, because hubs somehow forgot where our doctor’s office was and drove right past it. Good thing I’m the navigator—and yell at him to turn around. How you get lost on a cul de sac is BEYOND me.
Well, I get in to see the doc immediately and apprise the medical staff of my new digestive events! He comes to the conclusion that I have C. Diff. (which was confirmed by a test) and to NOT Google it. Who does this doc think he is, telling a blogger to not Google something that she has? He writes me some prescriptions and send me on my way, no instructions, nothing. No, take some pro biotics ‘cause it can help (I found that on the world wide web).
