So, turns out that wasn’t the flu…

On May 18th, a couple of us descended on Denise and Tarrant’s, to watch the livestream of Sharon graduating.

That night, I went to bed not feeling particularly well, but the kind of level of ick that I thought with a little Nyquil, I could sleep it off.

On May 19th, I took the doggos in to Auntie Bagel Sunday where we wished Jenn a happy belated birthday. I felt fine all day, and didn’t really think about not feeling well again.

When I woke up on the 20th, I felt OK, and went about my business for the day. I was fine until I woke up about 4 in the morning in the worst pain. Everything hurt. My whole body hurt. The hair on my arms hurt. My TOES hurt. I got up, took three Tylenol, and tried to go back to bed.

On the 21st, I woke up feeling not great, but not in as much pain as I was in a couple hours previously when I woke up. I watched Star Trek with the girls, and then decided to take a Covid test. It came back negative, so I assumed I had a cold or something – hopefully not bronchitis again – and I decided I felt shitty enough to take the day off. And how often does THAT happen?! Maybe it’s the flu… I can’t even remember the last time I had the flu. Does it make you exhausted, is it hard to breathe, does everything hurt? Yep. OK. Must be the flu. Take the day off. Rest. Drink fluids. Cower in blankets when I’m cold, and sweat profusely when I’m not. Overall my body feels like a bag of broken glass. Yuck.

On the 22nd, I took another Covid test, and it came up negative as well. If this was the flu, the flu can die in a fire. I was kind of on two or three hour waves… I’d be freezing cold. Bundle under the blankets for a couple hours. Then I’d be burning hot. Throw off the covers, sweat through everything I’m wearing for a couple hours. Then I’d feel relatively fine for a couple hours, and that was when I’d do things like get up and refill my water bottle and post on Facebook about how much I hate the flu. I emailed my Primary Care Physician about my symptoms, and she agreed that it was the flu, but because it had been more than 48 hours, anti-virals wouldn’t help at this point. She agreed that rest and fluids and waiting it out might suck, but it was pretty much all we could do. If I wanted to come into Gainesville she could give me a flu/Covid/RSV test, but it would really just be confirming what we thought from my symptoms (and I’d have to find someone to drive me in because the pain (constant) and the fever (coming and going) and the being hard to breathe (constant) was making it hard to move, hard to concentrate, and my reflexes were shot. There was no way I could drive.)

On the 23rd, I pretty much stayed on the couch all day, feeling … not better. Not worse, exactly, it would have been hard to feel WORSE. But I didn’t feel great and I was hoping that the flu would pass already and let me be. I walked over to the studio at one point and had to take a nap for an hour. I felt somewhat OK as long as I stayed there on the couch, but if I got up? Went to the bathroom? Got more water? Did anything? Pain. Fatigue. Ughness.

On the 24th, again, I pretty much stayed on the couch. In the early afternoon, I had to go to the studio to mail out a time-sensitive custom order, and y’all, that just about wrecked me. By the time I got back to the house I was freezing cold and so, so tired. I didn’t even think that getting under the blankets was going to help me. Jeff, who had asked me a couple of times in the days previously if there was anywhere I wanted to go, said that I really should let him take me somewhere. I told him to let me take a hot shower first, I’d think about it in the shower. The shower, by the way, was AMAZING. The hot water did warm me up nicely, without overheating me. Unfortunately then I was shivering again by the time I got dried off and dressed. I contemplated going straight to bed, but I figured Jeff was right. It was time to go somewhere. I told him that I’d prefer to go to the free-standing Shands ER on 39th in Gainesville because if I had to get admitted I’d rather be admitted to Shands than to North Florida. But that the ER in Starke, is only half the time to the one in Gainesville BUT is part of North Florida, so would take me there if I had to be admitted*. I was going to go to sleep in the back seat of the car while he drove and I’d let him choose where to go.

He took me to the freestanding Shands ER, where they gave me a handful of tests after me telling them I thought I had the flu but my god, this was the worst thing ever. They gave me a Covid/Flu/RSV test and guess what….? Covid, negative. RSV, negative. Flu… NEGATIVE. It’s not the flu? WTF is it, then??? A few more tests – urine test, blood test, CT scan, X-ray – and the diagnosis…? Kidney infection with Septicemia. What, what?! I have one kidney, and it’s sick? That’s not good. Septicemia? Blood poisoning? Yeah, that’s not good, either.

So from the 24th through the 28th I was a guest of the Shands health care system and y’all, those days are a WHOLE OTHER POST. What a fucking nightmare. I’d still rather go there than North Florida, but god DAMN. When they asked me to fill out a survey I gave them one star, and I told them the one star was because they somehow managed to keep me alive in spite of themselves.

And it seems unreal now but from the 28th through today, I’ve… been home. I’ve been regaining my strength, slowly. Eating. Resting. Watching a LOT of TV. Seriously… so much TV. It’s a combination of really watching things when I’m awake but not able to move around much, and emotional support TV conversation when I’m napping.

Things I’ve done since I got home… repotted a bunch of houseplants (which was good physical therapy). Helped Jeff set up our new internet, a Starlink system (I’ve already cancelled the HughesNet and in a few days I’ll cancel the Verizon jetpacks). I’ve had a number of doctor’s appointments, of which Jeff has taken me to every one (thank you, Jeff; you’ve been an unending source of support these last few days… weeks, even). There was that whole thing with the dogs getting a gopher tortoise, another thing that will have to eventually be it’s own blog post.

And I’ve been doing a metric ton of sitting on the couch with the dogs. They’re going to be very disappointed when I get well enough to go back to work! Every day I feel a little better, though. Every day I try to do a little bit more than I did the day before, not in a harshly pushing myself but just in a move a little more/reach a little more/stretch a little more. And every day when I do just a little bit more than the day before, I’m still tired, and I still need to lay down for a bit, but I need to lay down for less time and I’m less tired. I’m recovering and as stressed out as I am about not getting work done, I’m trying not to push myself so hard that I relapse.

I had a really great checkup with my Primary Care Physician Thursday. This is already getting pretty long (and I’m getting tired) so I’ll just say that she ran a lot of tests and I have a lot of upcoming tests and overall my doctor is amazing and is going to get to the bottom of this. She says there’s no reason she can see that I should have gotten this sick, this fast, and let’s find out what’s going on so it doesn’t happen again. Because the chances of getting sepsis again, once you’ve already had it? Very high. I don’t like that. So let’s get me super duper fixed.

More later, when I don’t need a nap! And when I’m not about to chug 32 ounces of water AND HOLD IT FOR AN HOUR while Jeff drives me to Gainesville so I can get a bladder/kidney ultrasound.

Good times, yo. Good times.

* There are a couple of urgent care centers in Gainesville (none in Keystone) but the only two actual hospitals (besides the VA which I am not eligible for as I have never served) are Shands, a teaching hospital associated with the University of Florida, and North Florida Regional Medical Center, recently renamed, I think, HCA Florida North Florida Hospital (that’s what Google tells me but jeez does that look like word salad typo). Everyone still calls it North Florida. ANYWAY. You might think “good lord, Shands is where your husband died, why would you want to go to Shands?” and to that I say (a) until the rehab place, Select, he got excellent care at Shands. And (b) living in a town with a not wide variety of hospitals means that I know more people who have died at North Florida than I do who have died at Shands.