Far Too Independent For My Own Good. Literally.

There is only one point in my entire life that I ever want anyone to take care of me, and that’s when I’m sick. When my body hits that achy-slug feeling, I would like to just curl up and die, while having someone making me eat, talking to me, and stuffing medication down my throat. Simple request right? Wrong. I’m far too independent for my own good. I can look back over the years that I have been sick since my freshman year in college, and I have yet to ask for help. Let’s review.

1. Fall of 2005–
Status:
Sick. Would wake up in the middle of the night with my throat swollen shut and not being able to breathe.
Solution: Wait. Wait. Wait. Wake up not breathing. Shove finger down throat to open air way. Tada. Problem solved. Not once did I go the doctor.
Lesson learned: Make sure you roommates don’t panic when you wake up not breathing. It just makes things worse.

2. Mid February 2008–
Status:
Deathly ill sick. Got a gnarly cold (or so I thought). Went to a dance at school with tissue box in hand. Blew my nose…a lot. Dance ended. Went back to hotel. Vegged out with the TV and some pizza (which I didn’t eat). Sleep. Woke up in the wee hours of the morning not being able to breathe (again). Finger down throat. Problem solved. Sleep. Woke up again. Fuck I have a fever. No worries. Sleep. Woke up. 1040. Ah, the alarm. Sat up in bed. Laid back down. Too weak for this. Attempt to get up. Fall back on bed. Wow. I didn’t know the room could spin like that sober. Attempt number two at getting up. Barely manageable. By this time Pig  had noticed that I wasn’t functioning correctly. Asked the usual “Do you feel ok?” questions. Me being me responded accordingly,  “I’m fine.” After 15 minutes of this ordeal I finally got my pants and t-shirt on. The grey blouse (jacket) on the other hand, EPIC FAIL. Finally, Pig just dressed me out of frustration. When he opened the door to leave, I remembered we were on the second story. Shit. I couldn’t walk that far and stairs. Ha. No. I think he just read the look on my face and proceeded to pick me up and carry me to the car. I was pissed. I may have been sick but I didn’t want to be carried. I was in the car by this point and madder than hell on top of feeling miserable. After checkout, Pig took me to the school hospital. I was mad, ill, and didn’t want to talk. The only thing I asked for while the nurse was checking me out was a trashcan to throw up in because I didn’t want to clean it up off the floor later. Needless to say, I slept from Sunday mid-day to Tuesday night and don’t remember waking up at all. I was out of commission for two weeks. Welcome to the suck.
Solution: Sleep, a lot.
Lesson learned: when I do get this sick, I should ask for help.

3. Fast forward to October 2008–
Status:
Blind in one eye. That’s not a joke. It turns out that the pink eye that I thought I had was actually an eye ulcer. Drove home for a weekend, woke up on Saturday with a massive migraine. Now, I’m prone to these so I get took my medication and went back to sleep. When I woke up for the second time, I couldn’t see a damn thing out of my right eye because it was swollen shut. Damn it. Given the last time that I was sick I phoned the doctor and made an appointment. I know that anything dealing with the eye is bad news bears. One appointment after another I finally found an answer. The sweetness of an eye ulcer. Most painful thing I have experienced in my life. After 3 trips to the eye doctor for a month, I was told I was lucky. If the ulcer had been a fraction more to the right I would have lost my eye sight forever in my right eye. The good news was that I no longer have correctable vision in my right eye.
Solution: Lots of eye drops. Lots and lots of eye drops.
Lesson Learned: Take your contacts out and do not ignore sickness.

4. Fall of 2009–
Status: Deathly ill sick (again). It turns out that ignoring migraines and back pain are a very bad idea. After several bouts of migraines, I eventually went to the doctor for additional medication. I had run out of the normal prescription and it also wasn’t working as well as it should have. (See I do learn somethings.) The doc hooked me right up with a shot in the bum (I cursed the nurse, aloud). I went back on my merry little way with another medication for my back. We assumed that I had just pulled it. Wrong. A week later I walked in the poor rain to the ER because of some symptoms I was having (we’ll skip the details).  The ER doctor was a moron! He released me. The next day, I made a visit to my doctor, which is an hour away, and shockingly I had a kidney infection. After being treated for that, the pain still continued. Now let me just describe to you the type of pain I’m talking about. It’s the kind that rides right in your lower back, off to one side, near your kidneys. It’s the kind that no matter how you sit, lay, or stand, you are not comfortable. It’s the kind that every time you move, cough, or laugh, you cry and not from joy. Get my point? After a few weeks of this non-stop pain, I got another test revealing that I have kidney stones. Shit, shit, shit. I can’t do a damn thing about them. These whole ordeal took place over about a 2 month span. I never once asked anyone, not even Mr. Breadstick who I was dating, to come and help me. Idiot.
Solution: Drink lots of water and cranberry juice and limiting your diet to eating less than an anorexic chicken and everything tastes like cardboard.
Lesson Learned: Drinking too much milk gave me kidney stones and now I’m stuck with them forever. Also, this is one of those sickness that I should have had someone staying with me.

After my deathly ill experiences I have learned that I actually need to ask for help, especially when I want it. I tell people all the time that I am far too independent for my own good. The examples above prove it. I need to take a chunk out of my pride every once in a while and rely on others.

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