A trip to the ER availeth much

Many of you saw this picture on facebook:

The hair is wonderful, isn't it?  I couldn't have given a rat's ass at that point.

Yesterday's alleged bug bites were, in fact, hives and this morning it was accompanied by angioedema (the hella freakish swelling) on my left eye and the back of my head from ear to ear.  I called the Dr and got in with the nurse practitioner who gave me a steroid injection and sent me home with a few other Rx and instructions to call her if it didn't get better.

It did...and then got worse.  Although the swelling in my left eye had gone down, my right eye had started to swell and my hives were multiplying at a pretty rapid rate.  Furthermore, I was called with the results of my CBC informing me I have an elevated white count and need an antibiotic for whatever infection is causing it.  I, a medically uneducated person, thought, "Well, aren't the hives and edema the reason for my elevated white count?"  But, alas, I didn't say anything because, well, she has a nurse practitioner's license and all I have is a penchant for voyeuristic medical programs.

I look like a homeless person and that's offensive to homeless people.

While I was noticing a worsening of my symptoms, I realized that my chest felt heavy, as though someone were sitting on my chest.  After my oatmeal bath in cold water (that was terrible, I like molten lava showers), I called my Dr's office who told me to hightail it to the ER.

In the ER, the Dr took a look at me, asked me some questions, and looked at the Rx I was given and quickly set me straight.  No infection, my layman's assumption was correct.  I have hives and, although they look scary, they will go away and be eased by the medication, some prescribed this morning and some prescribed in the ER.  It totally didn't hurt that the Dr looked like an older (and shorter) version of Dermot Mulrooney.

My nerves are settled and the swelling has gone down even more.  I know that some people claim they get hives due to stress and I wouldn't be surprised if that were the cause although, hell, I don't want that to happen again.  I don't need to be THIS stressed...maybe I need to take up yoga again...

Until Then,

AC 'n' Rory's Mom

The itch I can't help but scratch.

Last night, I went to bed just fine.  This morning, however, I woke up with small raised bumps that itch like a mo-fo.  My first thought: bedbugs.  Hence, the morning was spent inspecting my mattress, box spring, and bed frame making the kids tardy and me late for school.  I'm happy to say I didn't find anything aside from some hardcore dust balls.  Not finding creepy crawlies, though, didn't help the bump situation and the Internet research I did when trying to find out what to look for only exacerbated the itching.  Before the search, I didn't know what scabies were...now I do.  I also didn't know how many types of lice there are...now I do.  Fabulous.  I'm itchy EVERYWHERE and will now commence my life encased in a pest-free bubble.

After a good sweat at the gym, I came home and noticed the bumps had spread!  I've come to the conclusion that it's one of two things, either sweat dermatitis or hives.  Should it be the former, I am vindicated in my assertion that I AM, in fact, allergic to exercise and I will take pictures and email them to my high school guidance councilor.  Should it be the latter, well, I'm stumped and have NO idea what I could be allergic to, unless my body has decided to exhibit visible (and itchable) signs of stress. Couldn't be...me, stressed??  *insert nervous tick here*

What made my day even more fantastic was Rory running into the bathroom as I attempted a super fast shower.  I had left her happily eating her lunch at the table only to be interrupted less than 5 minutes into my lather, rinse, repeat cycle with cries of "poopy".  Thinking she needed to go, I plopped her up onto the toilet and hopped back in the shower to finish at ludicrous speed (Spaceballs, anyone?).  As I got out of the shower, I noticed a smear on the seat.  Lo and behold, the poor kid ran to her potty in the living room mid-poop, pulled her diaper off, and finished the job in her little potty.  She then ran into the bathroom to tell me about her grand accomplishment.  (Which it was seeing as this is the FIRST time she has even attempted to poo in the loo.)  Welp, after many Clorox wipes and ANOTHER shower (in order to wash Rory's butt), I'm finally able to relax...and scratch.

Until Then,
AC 'n' Rory's Mom