Holy crap am I ready for this thing to run its course. Yes, I know I said I had strep, but that was just a happy coincidence. Something to distract me while the E. coli went to town on my kidneys. We had to go through a list of about a dozen antibiotics before finding one that would knock this out, and even so had to switch after two days. We don’t know yet if this is the crazy strain terrorizing Germany and is spreading across Europe and the UK. However, I did get sick following a week in the UK, hanging out with a bunch of Germans. Hoping to hear it’s not. Hate to be case #3 in the U.S. (Update: love having a brilliant pathologist in the family; not the European strain. No lab confirmation, just deduction from available sources.)
Now, I am going for daily shots of rocephin in the hip. If you’ve ever had a shot in the hip, you know it smarts. Well, rocephin is very…thick. Like a gel. So they have to dilute it with something, usually lidocaine to act as a pain killer. The catch is that a doctor has to administer it; nurses aren’t allowed to mess with lidocaine. I just happened to walk in today when the doc was slammed, so the nurse had to do it. She came in with an apologetic look and said, “I’m so sorry. I had to dilute it with water.”
It took me a sec to absorb that. “Okay, but why are you sorry?” She looked even more miserable. “I’m not allowed to administer lidocaine.” Oh, well, how bad could it be?
VERY FUCKING BAD, APPARANTLY. Holy shit, I have never felt such agony, not since labor, and even that let up every few minutes. The drug is viscuous, so it has to be injected a tiny bit at a time. Three whole cc’s. Daphne held her hands over her face the whole time.
At first, I thought, pfffft, I can handle this, I’ve had worse. NO. NO, IN FACT, I HAVE NOT HAD WORSE. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT WORSE IS AND IF THERE IS SUCH A THING WE SHOULD IMMEDIATELY LEGALIZE LIDOCAINE AND SELL IT AT GAS STATIONS AND MINI-MARTS ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE.
And of course I don’t want to scare the kids into thinking routine shots are anything to be afraid of. But Daphne could tell, and went for the jugular. She skipped to the car. “Hey, mom, try this, it’s really fun. Or maybe you could jog in place.”
“Why don’t we just walk home? And then I could ride a bike up a mountain.”
“Yeah, in your big Madsen so we can all ride in the back!”
“Maybe just a jumprope contest. And then spankings.”
“Oooh, spankings!” I have been letting her watch too much Monty Python.
But my Mom scored the QOTD during the ultrasound.
Just as the room darkened and technician applied gel and began running it along my flank, Mom shouted, “It’s a boy!”