Ode to Adrenaline, Steroids, Benedryl and Lucky Bamboo

Sickos:

i sit and write to you high on drugs, not of the illegal sorts. funny what it is to be sick, one must wage war against one's own bodily vessel, the body sacred. i cooked dinner tonight; it was plain and simple. pasta, tomato sauce, some organic chicken/spinach sausage. garlic. i ate one bite, that's all it took. i noticed my face immediately lit on fire, i was burning alive. and then came the itch. first circulating around my hairline, like lice on a kindergartner. but there it was, the bloat, the unmistakable rash. i ran to the bathroom for a reality check: the mirror. i looked at my chest to see blistering hives dance across me, screaming- ha ha we got you now. i panicked. should i go to the the local hospital t-minus 20 minutes? i could go to the university's health services, t-minus four minutes plus a few extra taken not to hit drunk kids in stride? i could call the all-time scary ambulance?

definitely no to the ambulance- it would cost $900 in transportation fees because my insurance doesn't cover the ambulance or the oxygen they'd most likely give me on the ride over. plus ambulance rides guarantee panic attacks... the whole thing is dramatic. the sirens, the noise, the 100 + question game, the onlooking, nosy neighbors curious to see why you are on a stretcher. the questions. but mostly the noise and forfeiting even more control over to the health care workers. never fun. never worth the call unless absolutely necessary. so then what? hospital or university health care?

maybe, on the hospital. they are fully equipped to handle anaphylaxis plus other ensuing medical dilemmas. but now after downing 30 ml of bendryl, can i make the ride on my own? the answer is absolutely not.

this leaves me one option, the university's health clinic. sometimes they're good. but when it's bad, it's really bad. were they equipped to save me? i didn't know but i had to bet on it. i figured if things progressed beyond my control i'd have them call in the waambulance. i'd leave it to them to dial 911. meanwhile, they could drug me to the moon and back in vein effort to stop my immune system.

when i got to the health clinic three students waited. most people would let out a sigh of relief, thinking they wouldn't have to wait long. this is complete and utter shit. most often you wait the longest when it looks like there's no one in the waiting room. this is usually because the rooms behind the waiting room are full, with more waiting patients. to defuse any possible scenario requiring more time, i uttered four magical words to the nurse at the front desk: allergy attack, hives, difficulty breathing and {insert medical condition i will not reveal to you yet]. she didn't even make me sign in. a different nurse ushered me past the nervous, waiting students. one gave me a death glare because she too was suffering an allergy attack. but i played my trump card. my permanent medical malaise won any hand she might carry, other than highly infectious disease. my issue was more pressing. the immediacy of death rested more upon my shoulders than hers, so i got to go in first. of course, being a professional patient, i knew how to play my trump card well. i understood it, she didn't.

my trump card is besides the point. i only put it into play when i know it's a high risk situation. i scratched my hives. gosh, my throat was itchy.

i downed the benedryl the nurse handed me. now up to 60 ml. not feeling any difference. shit. beyond benedryl the next step seemed inevitable. epinephrine. aka the epipen.

iv tube inserted in the arm per usual. bags of fluids. epipen jabbed into left arm. Valium to counter the heart-pumping side effects of the adrenaline. medicine to fix the problem and more medicine to fix the medicine, per usual. more steriods. fun.

but the end result was fantastic, i could breath, finally. the positive result of an adrenaline rush out beat the negative, primarily being a case of the adrenaline jitters. the adrenaline jitters are one of the worst maladies i've ever experienced. sure, it doesn't seem bad, a shot of adrenaline- waa-laa you are fixed. but sick and healthy, one and all, the adrenaline shot is like a ride to hell and back. fasten your seat belt. you shake as if you were sitting on a seismic plate. this is where the valium to the arm comes into play. the nurse shot it straight into my vein and god did it feel good after the straight rush of adrenaline. i felt like a junky.

i sat back, took a deep breath of relief and complete, utter satisfaction overcame me. ahhh.

i heard someone vomit the room over.

oh but the sweet relief.

my ride came, picked me up. i hobbled back to the car, the largest smile across my face. and walking back into my apartment i stared up at the sky in an infant's amazement, i viewed the stars for the very first time. amazing, absolutely amazing. maybe even breath taking.

on the way home i hadn't even noticed the throngs of drunkards lining the street, or the cold new england air chilling my bones to the core. instead, i just focused on my smile and the fact i had made it. what an accomplishment. it feels fucking great to be alive. don't all you suffering sickos ever forget it, as bad as it gets, life is always better. it's better then better, it's fucking awesome.

well i should sign out now. i'm going to post this post and probably regret it tomorrow because it's the ramblings of a adrenaline drunk girl who just had the air knocked out of her. in other words, it lacks substance.

so goodnight for now and rest easy all you restless ones.