I was focused on getting better in November, for a couple of reasons. One, I had to go to Asia again, and two, I really wanted to get better. I had stopped doing bootcamp, was working out less, and the steroids had turned me in to a hideous raging beast, in more ways than one. I was bitchy all the time, and I was starting to put on weight which I had worked pretty hard to move in a negative direction throughout 2010. It was like living with Lou Ferrigno. The green Lou Ferrigno from the 80's (or was it 70's?), except I wasn't using my large green roid raging power for good.
I was still on Augmenten and Steroids when I left for Vietnam on the 9th. It was a quick in and out trip. Flying to Ho Chi Minh is not exactly a good idea for someone who is sick. Leaving Ho Chi Minh36 hours later to go to Bangkok for three days of meetings is an even worse idea. I didn't get much sleep, I was running for about 30 minutes a day on the treadmill, taking a steam after my early morning workout, having a little wine with dinner, and was kidding myself in to thinking things were moving in the right direction.
I returned home on the night of the 13th, and returned to work on the 14th. I had brought back some treats for the folks in my office: soy sauce kit kats, wasabi kit kats, and sweet potato kit kats (I love Narita airport duty free!). On Tuesday the 15th, I had some vegetables for lunch that included grilled plantains, and I tasted a soy sauce kit kat. At about 4pm I noticed my ears starting to itch. It was odd, I had never experienced this before, it is as if I had been stung by a bee in both ears. I got home, ears still itched a bit but I felt okay. Had some wine, some asparagus and salmon, and decided to chill and watch a few episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm. Nothing like a little dose of Larry David to melt one's troubles away. I noticed a large lump growing in the back of my neck, as if my occipital lymph nodes were swelling. My head hurt a bit, and I went to bed.
What I woke up to in the wee hours of the morning was like something out of a low budget Peter Cushing horror film. Large red welts all over my back, thighs, and arms. My ears lobes were purple and massive in size. The welts were getting bigger, and spreading, fast. My face started to swell, and when my tongue started to get larger, I knew I was in trouble. I ran over to my PCP's office and waited for him to show up. Turns out Wednesday is his day off. His PA was nice enough, informing me that it must have been something I ate, probably the plantains. (Imagine the Hank Azaria character Agador Spartacus from the movie The Birdcage telling you that you have had an allergic reaction....."you silly girl, eating the plantains, you so crazy!....)....He gave me a shot of solumetrol, prescribed more steroids, and Allegra. He then told me to take two Benadryl, and go to bed. Spoken like a true almost doctor.
When I walked in to the house, my husband looked at me, paused for about thirty seconds, examining what potentially was a very unpleasant future, and when he finally spoke, he said: "I didn't sign up for being married to a woman who now looks like Mickey Rourke in the Wrestler. It's not going to be like this forever is it ? " I can't even express in words how much his comments meant to me at that very moment.
I have never taken Benadryl before. I have however, given it to my labrador Heidi when she has had allergies, at the recommendation of my vet. I will never do that to her again. It's like an oral version of general anesthesia (and I can say that now because I know what it's like). Talk about a trip. I went down, fast, and didn't wake up for six hours.
After a full day of nothing but Benadryl on Wednesday, I went back to work Thursday, then took a redeye to NY Thursday night for business. I was going to work retail on Friday and Saturday, getting closer to the consumer and the competition. Good stuff. Too bad I felt like crap, and, I could feel my sinuses starting to erupt, again. Stuffed in to the wedge seat on a Continental flight from Orange County to Newark, I was miserable.
Friday was bearable, a cold and gray November day. I worked until six, then met my dad and sister for dinner. I felt okay, went to sleep, and woke up the next morning with one eye and one lip beginning to swell again. Drove to East Hanover to work all day and attempt to make a great lasting impression at a brand new location of a major retailer. It wasn't my finest hour. I did the best I could, but I was nervous about my increasingly swelling face, and the emergence of some new red dots on my arms. By 3:30pm I had to politely excuse myself, and drove 45 minutes to the Hunterdon County Medical Center.
I walked in to the ER, where the receptionist glared at me and said "what's your problem". My inner voice advised me not to respond "YOU", and instead I told her I was having an allergic reaction and she said, "wait time is about an hour"...to which I replied "oh really, so when my throat swells up and I can't ask for help, will you please look for me on the ground?".....I swear at that moment I saw the words LIABILITY flashing in her eyes. She instantly softened, and politely sent me right to check in.
One of the most memorable moments of my five month ordeal was when I sat down and the very kind lady at the HMC, whom I think was named Nancy, asked "have you ever been in this hospital before". I was so proud to reply, "yes, as a matter of fact, I was born here, I had teeth surgically removed before I got braces, AND, I had a cycling accident when I was thirteen that caused me to spend five days here with a concussion"! Her reply to my enthusiastic recount of my time at HMC ? "That's impossible, we have no record you exist". Priceless.
Anyway, the people at the Hunterdon Medical Center, minus the risk averse battleax at reception, were actually pretty nice. They said I was suffering from a second round of the first reaction to whatever it was I allegedly ate but no one actually knew and and and......
They shot me up with more solumetrol, prescribed a much higher dose of steroids to feed an already hostile beast, and told me to add to my anti-sinus sauce some pepcid AC, more Allegra, and extra Benadryl. By this time, I was pretty clear that nothing was working. My confidence in modern medicine was beginning to wane, and it was only November 20th.
I flew home the following day. I was hoping nothing horrible would happen on what is typically just under a six hour flight home. On this particular day, we spent extra time on the runway in Newark, and the headwinds were unusually bad, so my flight took almost two hours longer than usual.
Cut to the following day, the Monday before Thanksgiving. First thing in the morning I went to my PCP and called BS on the antibiotics and steroids since there had been no noticable improvement over the course of seventy five days. He wanted to conduct allergy tests, and I suggested, for the second time, that he recommend a good ENT. He said no need to consider seeing an ENT until the allergy tests came back. It's as though I was speaking Chinese, but that would not make any sense, given that my PCP is Chinese. I pleaded with him to wean me off the steroids immediately, so he compromised by swapping the high dosage from the NJ hospital to another methaprednizone pack.
This was also the day I was scheduled to head up the coast, check out golf accounts, drive to Sonoma, enjoy Thanksgiving day, then do more golf stuff. Our 10am departure ended up being 1:30pm. I was pretty frustrated, so called my PCP's office and asked them to ask the doctor to give me a referral for an ENT, that I wasn't going to wait for the allergy tests to come back. They gave me a name, then told me I didn't need a referral due to the fact that I don't have an HMO. At that moment I decided to break up with my PCP ( although I never really told him we were breaking up, I just never called him again. Oh please, don't even think about judging me. It's not like it hasn't happened to me before).
Let me add that nothing, I mean nothing, is more painful than having a passion for California red, being up in wine country, and having your doctor tell you not to drink any wine at all. I still didn't feel great, but by this time it had become part of my being. And that's all I have to say about that.
November. Done.
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