Dear Life: CUT ME A FUCKING BREAK. SRSLY.
The last 10 days have played out as such:
My stomach had semi stabilized for a couple weeks or so after six weeks of massive IBS flareup (a couple of which I was pretty well incapacitated) after getting a stomach virus in early February. When Easter long weekend rolled around (a week ago) and I was itching to get out of my apartment, and out of the city, the only last minute weekend accomplices that were available were a good friend (Amye) and cousin (Colleen) down in Oregon. So I said heck, and booked a next day flight down and a hotel room for my cousin and I, feeling strong enough for at least a weekend of lounging around with some of my favourite people.
Which all seemed fine and good... The next day, my stomach was feeling sort of off, but it just seemed like a more usual random bad day, and I felt assured that I'd feel better later on or the next day. So I carried through with the plan, and took a very bumpy little flight in the crazy windstorm.
The landing in Portland was really sketchy and by the time I was getting into Colleen's car, I was feeling pretty nauseous, but figured it'd pass. The lovely Amye saved me and brought some miso soup over to the hotel, and hung out for a while. I thought things would sort themselves out, surely. And as Colleen and I had camped out together before many times, I had no doubts I'd get a decent sleep... but this didn't happen, as she couldn't get to sleep till very late, which meant neither could I (apparently I was twitching or something and waking her up).
The next morning, I knew things were not good...my stomach was really upset, and I was exhausted. Aside from a short walk to get some air and stick my head in the Powell's bookstore, I basically spent the day at the hotel hanging out with Colleen till she headed out across town for a massage appointment. I had a nap, and then Amye and another good friend Chris came by to join Colleen and I for dinner.
I ate a bunch of rice, but was still feeling pretty awful. This second night I slept on the couch and had a decent sleep. But I just felt worse the next morning. Colleen considered driving back up to Vancouver with me and staying for a few days, until she realized her passport was back home, a few hours away. We checked out of the hotel and went by Chris' to hang out until Amye was back from lunch or it was airport time, whichever came first. We watched a movie with him and his roommate, but I could hardly focus because I was feeling so nauseous and exhausted... by about 3/4 way through the movie, I was legitimately starting to freak out about having to fly feeling like that in a few hours.
Chris made me a mug of Emergen-C drink, and acted silly, and Amye and Colleen gave me hugs, which cheered me up a little, but I still felt horrible and was not looking forward to traveling. The alternate options being less than ideal, I decided I would have to suck it up and make it home.
I hate asking for people to rescue me, but by the time I was through security I knew things were NOT good, and I called my uncle in North Van to see if he could come pick me up on the other side. After another incredibly sketchy and turbulent windstorm landing, and the 20 min walk from the gate this hopper flight goes out of, I felt like I was going to pass out by the time I was in my uncle's car on the way home.
By this time (since I'd called my mom from the airport), my parents were freaking out and had left several messages and missed calls on uncle paul's and my phones. Turned out my mom had booked a ticket to fly out the next day. Uncle Paul stayed over on my couch to make sure I didn't pass out on my own between then and my mom arriving.
And thank goodness my mom DID come out, as by the next day, the scratchy throat I'd had the last couple days, which I'd written off as allergies had turned into massively sore throat and my skin was starting to hurt a la getting a fever. All of a sudden it was abundantly clear why I had been feeling so awful all weekend: I was getting the flu.
FML. Really? REALLY??? After all this I'm gonna get sick too?!
I spent the next couple days sleeping off a fever and crazy sore throat, then battling a horrible cough for the last week - because of my asthma not being great, getting a cough is the worst possible thing to happen for me. It's been marginally better the last couple days finally, but I am still having terrible cough till you gag fits a few times a day, and managed to pull a muscle in my abdomen from coughing so hard last night. Oh, AND I haven't been able to speak since midweek cause I lost my voice (thankfully it's just starting to return now), which has been contributing to my feeling like a crazy person!
The kicker? I'm sposed to leave for Drupalcon in 3 days. I'm trying to stay positive and just rest like crazy, but it's gonna be a freaking miracle if I make it. I may have to go down late (or obviously cancel altogether), but even if I do go, I'll certainly be taking it extremely easy, and only doing half days or something like that.
2010, I have to say...you are NOT going so well so far. Please, please, please I need things to turn around, and soon. I have loads of good karma, let's cash that in now please! Till then, I'll keep taking it a day at a time, and resting. My mom heads out tomorrow, so I am on my own again... a little nervous about this, but I will get through it somehow.
Ps. A million thanks to my mom for coming out and taking care of me, and to everyone who has sent kind words, cheered me on, and kept my spirits up. I don't know how I'd keep dealing with this crap if it weren't for all of you reminding me that there is more to life than bedrest.