Monday, July 16, 2012

I'm Still Living?

This last week, I came down with a terrifying case of strep throat. It all started Saturday morning, when I awoke on the floor of Mrs. Mumford McAvoy's living room. (We'd had a sleepover the night before, in part so she could show me her new house.) After the initial panic I always experience in the morning after I spend the night at someone's house (my first thought is always, "Oh god, what did I do?!") I noticed my throat tickled. Actually, it was more than a tickle, it was a mild soreness. I then suddenly realized that I was most likely sick, and I did not take this news well.

I went home and told my father about my throat and how I was fairly sure it was going to turn into something much worse. I was right, of course. I woke up the next morning with a fever, pounding headache, and the feeling that I had suddenly switched throats with a very untalented sword swallower. I was pretty certain I was going to die.

I spent most of Sunday on the couch, watching My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and writing my will in my head. (My family and Jimr get first crack at my stuff, and whatever they don't want my friends can have, etc.) I eventually had to get up for dinner, despite my requests for pizza to be brought to me. I was actually pretty dizzy and making it up the stairs took at least three minutes longer than usual, so I felt I was justified in having a couch dinner, but I guess my parents thought otherwise. After dinner I crawled back downstairs and onto the couch for more My Little Pony, and I finally fell asleep at around 9 p.m. About forty minutes later I woke up, and immediately I realized that shit was really off.

I don't know if it was some strange combination on the room being dark, my being groggy, and too much My Little Pony or something else, but I was seeing some crazy stuff. In every shadow something new and terrifying greeted me, such as the silhouette of a creepy guy in a hat, a baby head, and a pony who I was just so sure wanted to eat me.

I decided that was enough and I got as close as I could to the stairs and called for my dad. I asked him to take my temperature (which was 101.6) and bring me some ibuprofen, and after that I went to bed. And naturally, despite being pretty exhausted, I laid there for three hours. But I did eventually go to sleep, and when I woke up my headache was gone, my fever was broken, and I could move around like a normal person again. I was amazed to not have died in my sleep.

Later in the week I finally convinced my mom to take me to the doctor so I could get the antibiotics I needed, because I had a pretty important wedding shower to go to that I just really didn't want to be sick for. I felt normal again by the second day of my medication, and I am now completely better. I am no longer hallucinating killer ponies. I'll admit, though, it wasn't just the antibiotics that made me feel better. Rainy stopped by my house with a get well balloon (complete with incorrect rainbow) and a flower, and a little bit of Rainy always makes good medicine. :D Okay, the story of my illness is complete, moving on:

Quote of the day: "Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please." -Mark Twain

Photo of the day:

Word of the day: Defenestrate- to throw out a window.

Ocean Picture of the day:

(This photo was taken by the lovely and talented FirePenguinDiscoPanda)

Stay healthy and goodnight!
Love, Colours.

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