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Jaysus. The last two days have just sucked the Biggest Wang Imaginable.
I ended up in the goddamned emregency room last night around three a.m. I'd had to make a run to the allnight KMart in Uniontown around 2 in order to pick up more tissues (I've been finishing off an entire box of Kleenex every hour, on average) and pick up some hot peppers to chew on to stop the unstoppable hiccups that were literally tearing my diaphragm apart...but when I got home, I started hiccuping and coughing so violently--at the same time--that I nearly puked and couldn't catch my breath at all. Earlier in the night, my fever had spiked up to about 104 degrees, but a cool bath and some Tylenol had dragged it down to 100...but thanks to the insane coughing/hiccuping jag, apparently, it started to bounce up again--so I decided that whatever the hell was wrong with me was a bit out of my league to figure out, and I should get myself checked out ASAP before something really bad started developing. Fortunately, my mother heard me choking and hiccuping on the porch--I actually was so loud I woke her up inside her own house--and drove me in to the hospital, because at this point I could hardly breathe, and my rbicage felt like it was broken.
Well, the trip to the hospital was a complete and utter waste of time--they gave me some Reglan for the hiccups (which did nothing at all), some aspirin for the fever (which ramped down pretty quickly, thank the gods), and sent me on my way still writhing in pain and barely able to breathe. Nice. At least something good came out of it: they checked out my lungs and my stomach, and there wasn't any severe congestion in the former nor anything weirdly wrong with the latter...save, of course, the gallon or so of air I swallowed hiccuping myself to death. I finally managed to get some sleep when I returned home...though I kept waking up every ten minutes liberally drenched in sweat and tormented by the most fucked-up fever-powered dreams my brain has ever coughed up. Let's put it this way...I enjoy nightmares because they're a thrill--but this crap was so weird and claustrophobic and schizophrenic that I almost didn't want to go back to sleep so my brain could go insane once more. Needless to say, though, I didn't sleep very long: I didn't really settle down to sleep for real until 7 or 8 a.m., and I'm already awake...but at least I don't feel like I'm totally dying anymore. My head is clearing up nicely and I'm no longer hiccuping and I took some old cough medicine I had around the house here and that settled down the wheezing a bit.
Interesting story, that, though....I've had this bottle of prescription cough medicine for a few months now, but rarely touched it because, honestly, it almost never works--but when I woke up I decided to take some because, hell, even if it helps me stop coughing a little bit then it's a good deal. Unfortunately, the stupid fucking childproof cap was broke: no matter how hard I pushed down on it and twisted and smacked it with my wang and decried it in the name of Azathoth, it wouldn't open. So FUCK THIS, I said, and I took it to the toolbench in the basement and smashed the damn cap off with a socket wrench. Now it's sitting on my medicine shelf with a wad of paper towel jammed in its neck. Sooooooo ghetto.
Ohyeah, and last night when I was at the KMart, the woman who checked me out noticed that I was feeling and looking pretty shitty, so she told me she would pray to Jesus to help me. Normally, I would just be polite, nod my head, and be on my way--but I was in pain, dizzy as hell, and really pissy, so I told her to chuck this Jesus person and pray to the Other Gods, because only they could help me now. I guess she did, because I actually don't feel like I'm completely dead this afternoon.
I'm going to call Vanessa and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
siliconedreamer in a bit to let them know that I'm not 100% dead anymore--just about 65% now. Let it be known that Vanessa is the sweetest girl on the entire planet. She's just...wonderful. aRvin's a great cat, too, but he's a dude. :)
I ended up in the goddamned emregency room last night around three a.m. I'd had to make a run to the allnight KMart in Uniontown around 2 in order to pick up more tissues (I've been finishing off an entire box of Kleenex every hour, on average) and pick up some hot peppers to chew on to stop the unstoppable hiccups that were literally tearing my diaphragm apart...but when I got home, I started hiccuping and coughing so violently--at the same time--that I nearly puked and couldn't catch my breath at all. Earlier in the night, my fever had spiked up to about 104 degrees, but a cool bath and some Tylenol had dragged it down to 100...but thanks to the insane coughing/hiccuping jag, apparently, it started to bounce up again--so I decided that whatever the hell was wrong with me was a bit out of my league to figure out, and I should get myself checked out ASAP before something really bad started developing. Fortunately, my mother heard me choking and hiccuping on the porch--I actually was so loud I woke her up inside her own house--and drove me in to the hospital, because at this point I could hardly breathe, and my rbicage felt like it was broken.
Well, the trip to the hospital was a complete and utter waste of time--they gave me some Reglan for the hiccups (which did nothing at all), some aspirin for the fever (which ramped down pretty quickly, thank the gods), and sent me on my way still writhing in pain and barely able to breathe. Nice. At least something good came out of it: they checked out my lungs and my stomach, and there wasn't any severe congestion in the former nor anything weirdly wrong with the latter...save, of course, the gallon or so of air I swallowed hiccuping myself to death. I finally managed to get some sleep when I returned home...though I kept waking up every ten minutes liberally drenched in sweat and tormented by the most fucked-up fever-powered dreams my brain has ever coughed up. Let's put it this way...I enjoy nightmares because they're a thrill--but this crap was so weird and claustrophobic and schizophrenic that I almost didn't want to go back to sleep so my brain could go insane once more. Needless to say, though, I didn't sleep very long: I didn't really settle down to sleep for real until 7 or 8 a.m., and I'm already awake...but at least I don't feel like I'm totally dying anymore. My head is clearing up nicely and I'm no longer hiccuping and I took some old cough medicine I had around the house here and that settled down the wheezing a bit.
Interesting story, that, though....I've had this bottle of prescription cough medicine for a few months now, but rarely touched it because, honestly, it almost never works--but when I woke up I decided to take some because, hell, even if it helps me stop coughing a little bit then it's a good deal. Unfortunately, the stupid fucking childproof cap was broke: no matter how hard I pushed down on it and twisted and smacked it with my wang and decried it in the name of Azathoth, it wouldn't open. So FUCK THIS, I said, and I took it to the toolbench in the basement and smashed the damn cap off with a socket wrench. Now it's sitting on my medicine shelf with a wad of paper towel jammed in its neck. Sooooooo ghetto.
Ohyeah, and last night when I was at the KMart, the woman who checked me out noticed that I was feeling and looking pretty shitty, so she told me she would pray to Jesus to help me. Normally, I would just be polite, nod my head, and be on my way--but I was in pain, dizzy as hell, and really pissy, so I told her to chuck this Jesus person and pray to the Other Gods, because only they could help me now. I guess she did, because I actually don't feel like I'm completely dead this afternoon.
I'm going to call Vanessa and
siliconedreamer in a bit to let them know that I'm not 100% dead anymore--just about 65% now. Let it be known that Vanessa is the sweetest girl on the entire planet. She's just...wonderful. aRvin's a great cat, too, but he's a dude. :)
