I am not doing so great in the health department. A few days ago my eyes started swelling. It was the direct result of my rosacae moving into the tubes of my lower eye lid. Painful is an understatement of epic proportions. I broke down and made an appointment with Ed, my optomitrist. He has this gret thing to treat the inflamation that cuases the eye infection that as a side effect will combat the rosacae. Great. So I go, get the scrip because my eye had swollen to such a degree as to elicit B horror movie screams from all and sundry at work... including the ever bold Sir Knight. Bold but not terribly brave when staring down a mass of swollen purple flesh.
The swelling put so much pressure on my eyes and backed up enough normal blood flow in the rest of my face that my head hurt to the point that I wanted to take it off and put it on a spike outside the main road to Rome. After I got the meds I thought I was home free. When I woke un the morning the swelling was worse, my eye was glued shut by the ooze draining from underneath the lid and I was a bit dizzy. I chalked it up to the built up pressure and went to work anyway.
Jean and I stripped a handful of rooms, had a donut from Potter's and I went about looking for morethings to justify my paycheck. But it was getting hard to walk, my legs were stiffening up on me and the head started to pound. I took some naproxen and carried on. Mark brought in a handful of linens that needed pressing. While my machines tumbled away I set up the ironing board and filled the water chamber on the drippy drippless iron and went about my usually pleasant task. I don't know if the bowed head was the cause, but as I stood there ironing my extremities started to feel like lead weights and my chest hurt; not a sharp nor a pulsing pain but rather like the heart was swelling and pushing against my body to be let out. I dropped things a couple of times and when I went to pick them up my body nearly threw me down. Every move I made was a struggle. By the 3rd table cloth I was concentrating on standing upright rather than getting the wrinkles out. It was a sub parr job, and as we've discussed sub parr is only good in golf. When I finished the linens I turned to empty the dryers and reload the washers. That is when the panic settled in for a good long stay. I felt EXACTLY like I did the day Dr. Mike sent me to Munson. My chest and head hurt so badly.
Jean, LeAnn and Sam all wanted me to go home. I'm not a wimp but I am proud and there was no way that I was going to have another "Incident". But when I started to feel like I did in '06 I decided to get someone to have a look. Enter Bayside docs. He gave me the once over and decided that since I'd had a prior bout with the staph that further testing was needed to rule out other possibilities. And he took a culture to be certain I didn't contract some staph. Those results won't be back for a while. LeAnn drove me to the Doctor. Doctor sent me the Munson. I asked him if I could be shot in the head to solve the problem more directly. I hate that hospital.
Once there things seemed to start to settle down some. I got a shot of a painkiller that made me feel fuzzy, similar to th effect of 3 drinks at Bay View. But my heart kept on pounding. Whatever was hapening with my head happened with my heart. As the swelling decreased around my eye the pressure in my chest decreased as well. The heart doc at Munson didn't seem to want to subscribe to my diagnostic theorem. He decided that the oain in my chest was from pulling or stressing the ligaments there. I guess that is possible since I helped unload tile from the back of brothers truck.
