Get Down with the Sickness

I returned to the state that bore me, and hoped it would welcome me into it’s mountainous bosom.

You know what I got instead?

A fucking sinus infection.

The first sinus infection I ever had was so painful that I literally could not move my face. I’ll state that again, because it’s ridiculous: I could not move my face. I had to take Vicodin so that I could eat like a normal person. Sure, the sore throat was a doozie, but the pressure made me think that my sinuses were going to explode (wouldn’t that have been beautiful?).

Once, at USC, I had a sinus infection so bad that the roof of my mouth was sore. Like a sore throat, only way more obnoxious. I went to the health center because a) my mouth was fucking sore,  b) my tonsils were clearly swollen, and c) they had developed a white Jackson Pollock-esque splatter paint of mucus. The “Health Center” was very helpful. They told me nothing was wrong with me and I shouldn’t have a sore throat.

I flew home to Colorado, where my mom took me to an Urgent Care and they said I had the worst sinus infection they had ever seen. Thanks, USC, for once again having the dumbest health center in the world. (This is the same health center that would ask you a zillion times each appointment, no matter the illness or injury that brought you there, if you were pregnant. “I have a cough.” -“Oh, are you pregnant?” NO FUCK YOU I’M COUGHING.)

So when I got back and a sore throat developed, I did what I do best, and fell into denial. Then I woke up Sunday and couldn’t swallow, and was like, FINE, I’ll go to the doctor’s. Of course, this was after a night of moaning for my mom and crying (unfortunately, she didn’t hear me).

Let me interrupt myself and say that I’m extra obnoxious when I’m sick. I revert from being a well-spoken, intelligent, mature 23 year-old* to a caveman.

My mother and I went to a Take Care Clinic at a Walgreens. Whenever we go there, the people working are hilarious. I went when I got my stitches from my road-trip removed, and we laughed as the lady gagged. This time, the lady kept making jokes about me dying, and it was all fun and games until I realized I’m probably a hypochondriac. 

Exhibit A: This is what I do every time I’m sick, no matter what.

Exhibit B: Lady Doctor Hilarious Awesome Person was all, “If the pressure in your ears gets too much, come back; we don’t want you to have an ear infection and die.” Last night? My ear was aching so much I could barely move my head. I took three advil and didn’t fall asleep until it finally, around midnight, popped. Gross, I know.

Exhibit C: Lady “I’m-Super-Cute-And-Funny-I-Shouldn’t-Be-Working-Here-In-This-Wellness-Closet” told me that sudden night-sweats are a very, VERY bad sign. Like, a “we need to get you to the hospital” sign. Well, I woke up this morning SOAKED in sweat.

Granted, I was having dreams about doing a hundred pull-ups and arm-wrestling my mom, but still. I figured I needed to be rushed to the hospital because clearly I am developing all the things she warned me that I might develop.

 

*HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA