And when I say that, I actually mean that I am not dead, because last week there was a reasonably real chance that I would be.
I finally found an apartment in San Francisco with my cousin (who is currently staying there by himself). I took the time on Monday to move all of my ish out of my friend's parent's garage and finally get some sort of settled in.
I spent all of Monday moving and by the time I got back to Alameda I has zero energy left to do anything but have a glass of wine and pass the fuck out. I woke up ungodly early with a pain in my throat. Now I'm not stranger to sickness, it seems as though every year or so I am struck with a debilitating illness, but this was unlike anything I had experienced. It wasn't super painful, but enough to wake me up. It sort of felt like a bee sting or something. So I laid there until it was a reasonable hour, had some tea, and tried to relax until Julia's mom drove to the BART station.
Things were getting a bit worse after that, I thought to myself "okay I'm definitely getting sick" though still only experiencing the symptoms of a sore throat. Growing more and more uncomfortable, I realized, to my horror, that I had gotten on the wrong train and was headed to Castro Valley (seriously, who messes up BART?). Anyways, I ended up spending an extra 30 minutes on the train, and to my dismay, my condition was rapidly worsening. By the time I got to the Union City stop I could hardly swallow without my eyes watering with tears. I stopped into the nearest convenient store and chugged a hot coffee, but this seemed to be the last thing my body wanted.
I had an hour layover for my Dumbarton bus and I spent most of that time curled up in the fetal position next to a tree using my book bag as a pillow, occasionally sitting up to spit on the ground ( I could no longer swallow at this point). Meanwhile the rest of my body was beginning to feel terrible.
The bus finally arrived and I sat there trying not to drool all over myself. Still, I was mostly just REALLY uncomfortable. I texted Sam and asked her if she had any antiseptic at her house since that's where I was going. I postulated that maybe I was having an allergic reaction (to what I have no idea, the only thing I had consumed in the past 24 hours besides the coffee had been tea, pears, dried mango slices and almonds). I had no choice but to endure for the rest of the ride.
About 15 minutes later, I was sobbing quietly, drooling all over the floor of the bus (I know, gross, but I didn't really have much choice). I can't even describe how much pain I was in. I thought back to every rugby injury, every illness I had. I compared every time I thought "This is absolutely the worst" and it didn't even come close. Minute by minute I was sweating, clawing at the seat in front of me. I could not sit still. Every once in a while I let out a cry until finally I couldn't hold it in. I was literally yelling and writhing in agony on the bus, praying for death.
I managed to get off the bus and choke out to some poor passerby "Where is urgent care?" she replied that it was just down the street.
"Are you okay? Do you want me to call 911?"
"No! I'm okay!"
(Aside: no one is ever allowed to call an ambulance for me. Unless I am dead or clearly dying. Otherwise, I will hate you forever because an ambulance ride is fucking expensive as shit)
After wandering around Palo Alto like a crazy person, drooling and wheezing trying to discern my blackberry navigation to get me to the Palo Alto Medical Foundation. I staggered in the front door and was almost immediately taken back to see a doctor.
"So what's going on?"
*points to throat*
"Well I'm just going to have a look here"
Convinced he was going to find my throat actually on fire and oozing acid, imagine my surprise when he said
"Your throat seems fine"
"You have got to be fucking kidding me." (NOTE:ACTUAL WORDS)
"I'm not kidding."
I was then taken up to see the Ear Nose and Throat (ENT) doctor who stuck a scope up my nose and found this.
So, apparently, this is what Epiglottitis looks like. I'll save you the trip, according to Wikipedia, Epiglottitis "is inflammation of the epiglottis - the flap that sits at the base of the tongue, which keeps food from going into the trachea (windpipe). Due to its place in the airway, swelling of this structure can interfere with breathing and constitutes a medical emergency. The infection can cause the epiglottis to either obstruct or completely close off the windpipe."
it goes on...
So that large swollen thing in the picture was my epiglottis rapidly expanding to shut off my windpipe. I was immediately taken (in a wheelchair, which was awesome) to a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV of Benedryl, steroids, and some antibiotics.
My fever increased during the 5 hours I was there and the doctor had a heart-to-heart with me.
"You don't seem to be improving, in fact, you're doing worse"
"mmmhmmmmm"
"I think it's best that we send you to the hospital over night"
"How much is that going to cost?"
"I'm not sure but, I'll be frank with you, this could kill you."
"Hospital sounds good"
Ironically, I did have to ride over in an ambulance, but as my EMT friends Jared and Paul explained, there is no way I'd pay for it. I felt kind of sad for them. But mostly happy for me.
Here is Jared taking my blood pressure in the ambulance
And here I am, thinking of you all, documenting my experience
So there I stayed. As you can guess, my condition steadily improved and the next day my epiglottis looked like this...
Obviously no longer life-threatening. Anyways, that's pretty much the whole story. I actually have more to post, but I wanted to get this one out there. Since I still have no job I'll probably be updating sometime tomorrow.
--Katie
I finally found an apartment in San Francisco with my cousin (who is currently staying there by himself). I took the time on Monday to move all of my ish out of my friend's parent's garage and finally get some sort of settled in.
I spent all of Monday moving and by the time I got back to Alameda I has zero energy left to do anything but have a glass of wine and pass the fuck out. I woke up ungodly early with a pain in my throat. Now I'm not stranger to sickness, it seems as though every year or so I am struck with a debilitating illness, but this was unlike anything I had experienced. It wasn't super painful, but enough to wake me up. It sort of felt like a bee sting or something. So I laid there until it was a reasonable hour, had some tea, and tried to relax until Julia's mom drove to the BART station.
Things were getting a bit worse after that, I thought to myself "okay I'm definitely getting sick" though still only experiencing the symptoms of a sore throat. Growing more and more uncomfortable, I realized, to my horror, that I had gotten on the wrong train and was headed to Castro Valley (seriously, who messes up BART?). Anyways, I ended up spending an extra 30 minutes on the train, and to my dismay, my condition was rapidly worsening. By the time I got to the Union City stop I could hardly swallow without my eyes watering with tears. I stopped into the nearest convenient store and chugged a hot coffee, but this seemed to be the last thing my body wanted.
I had an hour layover for my Dumbarton bus and I spent most of that time curled up in the fetal position next to a tree using my book bag as a pillow, occasionally sitting up to spit on the ground ( I could no longer swallow at this point). Meanwhile the rest of my body was beginning to feel terrible.
The bus finally arrived and I sat there trying not to drool all over myself. Still, I was mostly just REALLY uncomfortable. I texted Sam and asked her if she had any antiseptic at her house since that's where I was going. I postulated that maybe I was having an allergic reaction (to what I have no idea, the only thing I had consumed in the past 24 hours besides the coffee had been tea, pears, dried mango slices and almonds). I had no choice but to endure for the rest of the ride.
About 15 minutes later, I was sobbing quietly, drooling all over the floor of the bus (I know, gross, but I didn't really have much choice). I can't even describe how much pain I was in. I thought back to every rugby injury, every illness I had. I compared every time I thought "This is absolutely the worst" and it didn't even come close. Minute by minute I was sweating, clawing at the seat in front of me. I could not sit still. Every once in a while I let out a cry until finally I couldn't hold it in. I was literally yelling and writhing in agony on the bus, praying for death.
I managed to get off the bus and choke out to some poor passerby "Where is urgent care?" she replied that it was just down the street.
"Are you okay? Do you want me to call 911?"
"No! I'm okay!"
(Aside: no one is ever allowed to call an ambulance for me. Unless I am dead or clearly dying. Otherwise, I will hate you forever because an ambulance ride is fucking expensive as shit)
After wandering around Palo Alto like a crazy person, drooling and wheezing trying to discern my blackberry navigation to get me to the Palo Alto Medical Foundation. I staggered in the front door and was almost immediately taken back to see a doctor.
"So what's going on?"
*points to throat*
"Well I'm just going to have a look here"
Convinced he was going to find my throat actually on fire and oozing acid, imagine my surprise when he said
"Your throat seems fine"
"You have got to be fucking kidding me." (NOTE:ACTUAL WORDS)
"I'm not kidding."
I was then taken up to see the Ear Nose and Throat (ENT) doctor who stuck a scope up my nose and found this.
So, apparently, this is what Epiglottitis looks like. I'll save you the trip, according to Wikipedia, Epiglottitis "is inflammation of the epiglottis - the flap that sits at the base of the tongue, which keeps food from going into the trachea (windpipe). Due to its place in the airway, swelling of this structure can interfere with breathing and constitutes a medical emergency. The infection can cause the epiglottis to either obstruct or completely close off the windpipe."
it goes on...
So that large swollen thing in the picture was my epiglottis rapidly expanding to shut off my windpipe. I was immediately taken (in a wheelchair, which was awesome) to a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV of Benedryl, steroids, and some antibiotics.
My fever increased during the 5 hours I was there and the doctor had a heart-to-heart with me.
"You don't seem to be improving, in fact, you're doing worse"
"mmmhmmmmm"
"I think it's best that we send you to the hospital over night"
"How much is that going to cost?"
"I'm not sure but, I'll be frank with you, this could kill you."
"Hospital sounds good"
Ironically, I did have to ride over in an ambulance, but as my EMT friends Jared and Paul explained, there is no way I'd pay for it. I felt kind of sad for them. But mostly happy for me.
Here is Jared taking my blood pressure in the ambulance
And here I am, thinking of you all, documenting my experience
So there I stayed. As you can guess, my condition steadily improved and the next day my epiglottis looked like this...
Obviously no longer life-threatening. Anyways, that's pretty much the whole story. I actually have more to post, but I wanted to get this one out there. Since I still have no job I'll probably be updating sometime tomorrow.
--Katie
You may try Nin Jiom Pei Pa Koa (ninjiom-hk.cwahi.net). i know alot of people use it, its also non alcoholic, though it's effectiveness is not as good as alcohol based cough medicine, but it's still good to use on not so serious scratchy throat.
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