Ahhhh .... Vicodin

Well, you know I've been right here, since I'm not fit for the human world outside of my house, but I'm just slow these days. Here's a medical update; if you're squeamish, consider yourself warned.

I spent the better part of the day yesterday trying to reach the gastro doctor or his henchmen on the phone so that I could get something done about the blisters on my tongue, and when they finally called back, they said I needed to see my internist, not him. Swell. But her henchman returned my call within a half hour and said to come in right then, so I did. Here's what went down:

1. She said it looked like a stress reaction. Not emotional stress, but my body being under stress because I've had the stomach virus for so long.
2. She said it didn't look like staph or herpes.
3. She said that I should see her ENT doctor within 48 hours for a more concrete diagnosis. I said that I had my own ENT guy that I've been seeing for years -- she said fine -- but I asked for curiosity who she was going to send me to. And she said "Harry Katz" and I actually put both thumbs up and said "He's The Man!"
4. My doctor then led me out of the examining room and walked me over to see ... the gastro doctor, so he could look at my tongue, too. Hey, isn't that what I was trying to do all day?
5. Her office called Harry Katz's office and filled them in, and I got an appointment for 11.15 this morning.

Let us pause. I spent most of last evening doing salt-water rinses and feeling horrible. Oh, my back is also out, which is my body's time-honored reaction to stress, no surprise there. On to this morning:

1. I was pretty sure that Harry Katz, a very down-to-earth sort of guy, was going to look in my mouth and say "Oh, ick!" because he's done things like that before, but no. I stuck out my tongue, and he said "Oh, that's ...!" whatever he said it was, but he recognized it immediately and gave it its name.
2. It's first of all, a herpes infection, like cold sores that erupt when your immune system is weakened. In my case, they hit my tongue, because you know, my body never gets sick normally. My brain tumor was in the wrong place, and my appendicitis symptoms were not symptoms of appendicitis. Anyway, if he'd seen this last week, he could have given me an anti-viral to stop it in its tracks, but now it's too late for that.
3. Next. As my immune system continued to weaken, especially since I've hardly been eating because it hurts to eat, I developed thrush, which is a fungal infection of the mouth and/or tongue. (Repeat after me: Oooh, ick!)
4. He took a culture of it to determine exactly the nature of the fungus.
5. He prescribed anti-fungal lozenges for me and VICODIN. At the time, I thought, oh well, I'll get it filled but I won't use it; I have a high tolerance for pain.
6. He told me to eat better.
7. He asked me to call the gastro guy and tell him what was going on.
   
8. He told me that he couldn't believe it when Fred Weasley got killed, and that like I, he was just glad that Hagrid survived. (Harry Katz and I have long bonded over Star Trek and Harry Potter.)

Okay, so. I filled the prescriptions, came home, ate some pastina in chicken broth (also a childhood favorite), and could not reach the doctor's office all freaking afternoon, and didn't want to take the vicodin until I did. Yeah, that's right, I'm taking the vicodin! And you know what? My back doesn't hurt so much anymore, and my tongue is a few notches below excruciating, which is a definite plus. (I am writing this in English, right?)

So here's the kicker. I finish my pastina and take the acidophilus, the probiotic which the doctor told me start two weeks ago, and check my email and there's something from R, whom I'd emailed earlier with Harry Katz's diagnosis. Her email said "Make sure you don't eat yogurt, because it's got probiotics in it, and they encourage the growth of fungus."

WHAT?

So here I've been feeding myself fungus pills for two weeks, which I guess would normally not be an issue except I've already got this weakened immune system. Let me tell you, some doctor will hear about this tomorrow. Assuming I'm clear enough to make a phone call. (No, actually, I'm fine. I wouldn't drive, or probably even operate the washing machine, but other that that, I'm clear as a bell.) And no more of that stuff for me.

And how was your day?

You know, it hurts to talk more than a little bit at a time. Writing is cool.

WATCHING L/O :: ENTRY #1651