this is ridiculous.
but i'm getting ahead of myself. lemme roll it back a bit first.
about a week before xmas, the lady was taking dog out for a walk, when a rather brazen squirrel decided to scoot across murphy's path. naturally, being the squirrel-hunter that he is, he shot after it. 'cept, of course, he was attached to the lady. and she went for a spill. she thought she had just pulled a muscle in her back. so after much brow beating, and reminding that we had an eight our drive to buffalo ahead of us, i finally got her to visit the doc.
turns out she cracked a coupla ribs. woo!
it's funny, though. the doc was convinced that, given her injury and the xray, she should have been in more pain than she was. my lady's a tough chick.
so fast forward to friday 21 december. the day after the lady, the dog, and i arrived in buffalo to stay at my aunt and uncle's place, with my two track-star cousins and their dog.
it seems my aunt has an off-the-boat thai friend that recently received a crapload of restaurant surplus from a relative that closed up his place. and when she found out that i loooooove thai, she wanted to cook us all dinner on friday night. which is pretty great.
and it was pretty great. she made a pad thai that i actually enjoyed (i generally find it too boring), and a really great coconut milk curry shrimp dish, served over rice. it was excellent. i took great pains not to overeat. which would have been quite easy.
a little later, after dinner, the lady mentioned to me that she wasn't feeling too hot. her pain meds sometimes make her queasy, so we didn't think too much of it at first. but then it got worse. and it got worse fast. and soon after everyone went to bed (the kids had a meet the next morning) her head was in the toilet getting rid of the fine thai cuisine.
and then again, fifteen minutes later.
with two cracked ribs. my god if i could have taken that pain away i'd have done anything.
i think she literally vomited every 15-30 minutes, for about 4 or 5 hours. i've never seen anything like it... except the last time she had food poisoning. but wait. i wasn't sick. no one else was sick. wtf was going on? she had actually hit the bottom of the barrel that was her stomach and was bringing up the bright yellow stuff. i kept trying to shove liquids down her throat even though they were just going to come back anyway because, holy hell, yarfing something is better than yarfing nothing.
and it came with the bonus, superdiarrhea. like, mostly water, sounds like you're peeing, diarrhea.
*oh yeah, by the way, this story isn't for the faint of heart. suppose i coulda mentioned that earlier. but i didn't.*
the last time she got food poisoning, i had found a recipe for a homemade rehydration mix. it tasted like ass, but it kept her out of the hospital. we didn't need that this time because we were in a house full of sports drinks. which was good.
she eventually calmed down and got some sleep. and seemed to be getting better the next morning. david took first in his 55m event, and jills and her relay team set a new record for the buff state track. and we continued on trying to socialize the dogs, as we had been. we had expected murph to be the trouble maker, but surprisingly it was my aunt's roxy that wouldn't get along. all murph wanted to do was play with her, but she barked and nipped at him if he got too close. even in his obvious playful posture. they started to get used to each other, though. and soon we had them in the same room together, as long as we kept their minds off of each other. then they were walking around the same room. they'd occasionally stop and sniff, and my aunt didn't really help with her loud "NICE. PLAY NICE!" constantly around them. but we were getting somewhere.
but then, saturday night, we all found ourselves in the basement. and the dogs. and it's not a big basement. it's half finished off, and we were in that half. there's a lot of furniture and not a lot of room. this was a bad idea. and rox let murph know it. as soon as she found herself in the corner and he was bounding around trying to play, she went for him. and there was yelling. and no room. and the dogs just escalated until you could tell this was pretty frickin' serious.
my uncle and i tried pulling at the dogs' hind legs to pull them apart but murph had found his way to latching on to roxy's face. i couldn't think of another option so... i went for his collar. but before i got there, rox wrenched around and got me. two deep puncture wounds, one in the meat of the thumb and one in the center of the palm.
didn't seem like much at the time. after we had them separated, my aunt did a status check to see if anyone was bleeding. i said "yeah".
"one of the dogs?"
blood started streaming on to the carpet. crap. we got some paper towels and i headed up stairs to clean it out. my uncle headed to the store to pick up some hydrogen peroxide. in the meantime i ran cold water over it and everyone took a look. a quick call to the emergency number on the back of my kaiser card (they really are a pretty great health insurance company, actually) had us heading to the ambulatory center.
i don't know where that whole "a dog's mouth is the cleanest place in the world!" thing came from, but it's total bullshit. all mouths, from all animals are just teeming with bacteria. the doc at the ambulatory center said a dog bite is practically an automatic infection.
so they put me on augmentin (dogmentin!). ten days. gave me some low grade pain pills that worked pretty well too. no stitches though. which makes sense. i had a biomaterials class a while back in which i learned just a fraction of the amazing shit your body has figured out how to do to keep you alive. one of these is how it ejects foreign objects. including bacteria. you want to give it an escape route. so you don't really want to stitch up a deep puncture wound that can have shit deep in it that needs to come out. so i got those steri-strips. they work pretty well.
fast forward to sunday night. i took my second and final antibiotic pill of the day without food. they say this is a bad idea. it'll make you queasy. and for a while, i thought it had. but i toughed it out and fell asleep.
and then awoke. a few minutes later. with a most pressing need to get to the bathroom.
and i vomited. and again. and again. and again.
not as much as the lady did. but holy crap, that was not fun. quite possibly thee sickest i have ever been. i don't know that i have ever involuntarily moaned aloud whilst retching with nothing in my stomach left to heave. that was insane.
but i got better. eventually. but not all the way. wtf?
later i realized that the antibiotics might actually be killing all the good guy bacteria that were needed to kick out the virus. which is why it's still here. five days later. it's such an odd combination. i'm walking around like i'm fine. i can't really eat. i get full after maybe an english muffin. and then i instantly get intensely queasy. i'm shitting water every half hour. but aside from that... i really feel fine. no aches or pains. no fever. i'm on a steady diet of pepto liquid and tabs to keep the acid in my stomach down and the queasiness.
we found out it was officially an "intestinal virus" after jills got it. well, david got it first. he came out of the bathroom and looked at me and said, "well that wasn't fun." i don't think he vomited that much. he got a lot of sleep and bounced back pretty quickly. jills got hit hard, though. she's a little thing. she was laying on her parents' floor, unable to move she had retched so hard. she couldn't get liquids in to her so she dehydrated and cramped up. my uncle got her to the hospital where they pronounced it an intestinal virus and loaded her up with intravenous liquids and pain meds.
but me? i'm still queasy. here we are five days later. i'm back in DC. and i've got five more goddam days of meds to go through before i can get this shit out of me so i can shit proper again.
merry fucking christmas. tomorrow i'm off to delaware.