A Real Pain

If I ever find that mule that snuck into my room last night and kicked me in the arm...for NO GOOD REASON...and ran away, I am going to skin it.

Yesterday, I had finally finished all my school mess enough to turn my focus to my upcoming trip to Brazil.  I am way, way behind on some aspects of preparation, like getting my travel shots.  Fortunately, there is still enough time for me to get the first doses and still be safe, so I started trying to find out where I needed to go to get them.  This was not as easy as you'd think.

My doctor started by throwing up huge great warding signs and telling me that he could not do it.  I would have to go to the Health Department.  Okaaaay.  I looked up the location on Google, font of all knowledge, got their phone number, called them, found out I'd have to be there by 3, left school early, and sat around waiting in an empty waiting room for a long time.

The overly-cheerful TV health channel, something I have come to hate in health care waiting spaces, spouted out recipes using ginger and sharp cheddar and horseradish, talked about infertility and bladder weakness and exercise.  I stared out the window at the slice of a rooftop of a very old building I could see wondering how sick the shots I was going to have to get might make me.  The information sheets the person who had signed me in had given me were full of happiness.  There were three categories of symptoms.  I thought of them as "Bearable," "Survivable," and "Good God."

I also remembered the last time I'd taken some of them.  It was in my sophomore year of college before I went out of the country for the first time.  They'd made me fairly sick.  D. had sort of taken care of me which had mostly meant he'd come and carted me around to make sure I ate and then laughed at me when the sickness made me space out.  Lovely.

When at last I was called back, the nurse was very friendly and she quickly hit me with three shots, two in one arm and the hellish tetanus booster I needed in the other.  I felt the yellow fever and the Hep A/B almost immediately.  My whole arm was tingling.  The tetanus was quieter, but I knew better than to be fooled by that.  I went by the pharmacy to pick up my last step-down Topamax refill, and while I was there, I got some Tylenol.  When I got home, I took two and put my already sick-feeling self on the couch.

By eight, I felt like a bus had hit me.  The oddest thing this time was the stabbing pains in my back and shoulder.  I don't remember that from before, but to be honest, it could have happened.  Or it could be the yellow fever.  Who knows?  This morning, it all appears to be over except for the pain in both arms where it feels like I have been hit really, really hard by something.  It hurts to lift them or move them much.  Showering and washing my hair was a fantastic joy.

So, I'm still looking for that rogue mule who kicked me.  I'm going to take some more Tylenol to see if it will take care of some of the soreness and just in case fever might be lurking, low grade. Meanwhile, he had better stay away from me.