OK, that's enough trying to sound like Herman Melville... even my 10th grade English teacher thought he was boring.
If you've read my previous post, you know by now that I got bit by something recently (and no, Mom, it wasn't the "love bug"... sorry to disappoint). You see, I woke up on Thursday morning and just before I got in the shower, I noticed a red spot on the back of my left leg, just above the ankle. It itched, to be sure, but it didn't really hurt so I wasn't ready to go to the doctor. By the time I got home from work on Thursday night it looked like this...
At this point it was a little painful, but of greater concern to me was the fact that it looked like I had been branded by ranchers who work for Target. I had heard of this before... the "bulls-eye" shaped rash that could very well signify lyme disease, a condition which could lead to horrible things down the road (it would suck to have arthritis before I turn 30). I resolved to go to the doctor the next day if it wasn't better in the morning.
It wasn't better in the morning... in fact, on Friday, it was significantly worse. I could barely walk. So, riddle me this... why did I go into work? Because I had stuff to do. Ohmygod... could it have happened? Am I actually important at work? I digress...
I was in agonizing pain, and as soon as I got into work, I notified my boss that I would probably be taking a half day to go to the doctor to get what I think is a tick-bite looked at. Of course, she said that would be no problem and, out of curiosity, she asked to see the bite. While hobbling around on one leg, I lifted the cuff on my Dockers and revealed something that looked a little like this...
She didn't like the looks of it (neither did the other people that she motioned over to take a look) and essentially told me to go to the doctor right away. An order which I obeyed (that's me... slave to the man).
I didn't have an appointment, so I sat in the family practice center at University Hospitals in downtown Baltimore for about 2 hours before anyone would see me. When I finally got called out of the waiting area, I sat in one of those little rooms for another 45 minutes before a doctor came in... Now, I'm no expert on the medical profession, but I can only assume that the "doctor" who came in to my room was what you call a "first year resident." I actually think this could have been her very first shift because she entered the room, took one look at the back of my leg which I had de-socked and elevated on the patient table and her eyes got as big as sand-dollars. The first words out of her mouth weren't "Hi, I'm Dr. So-and-so," they were "Oh WOW! What happened to your leg?" She really needs to work on her bedside manner.
After this confidence inspiring moment, I was a little relieved when she brought in another doctor, who I can only imagine acts as the Dr. Cox to her Elliot Reid. Together, they listened to my story about how I don't remember getting bitten by anything, but have been outside recently and just noticed the rash the day before. They conferred and said that the chances were pretty good that it's not Lyme disease, but didn't want to rule it out, so they prescribed me a course of Doxycycline, an antibiotic which should kill Lyme disease or any other insect born bacteria, and 800mg Motrin for the pain. They said if it didn't start to get better within 48 hours, to come back and see them.
The rest of the day on Friday and all day Saturday were incredibly painful experiences. Sunday was better (even though it still looked like someone went all Shane Stant on my leg), Monday was significantly better and today I'm virtually pain free. So that's my ordeal... could have been a lot worse, but it could have been a lot better.
Now, if you don't mind, I have to go watch fireworks.
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