The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire

Get it? I have shingles. They sort of burn. Shingles go on a roof? Oh, never mind.

Saturday, I took a shower and thought about my day. I had decided to not take a road trip as it was overcast and intermittently drizzly. I was sitting on the sofa, talking to Frank, when I scratched my side. OW! HOLY MOTHER OF ALL THAT'S HOLY!!! I pulled up my shirt to see what the hell hurt so badly and could just see what looked like a bite. I asked Frank to look, as the spot was rather inconvenient to see, and he said it looked like a spider bite. Josh came over to look and thought so too. I left it alone. Later that day, I put witch hazel on it, and it was still sort of itchy, but from what I could see, it was okay.

Sunday morning, it was still there, but not any redder or bigger. I didn't think. I went to brunch with the boys at Cheever's (lamb burger, see previous post!), and then did some laundry, etc. Well, I went over to take a walk with Frank at around 7pm, and after, I asked him to check out the spider bite. I was beginning to wonder if it was a rash or maybe an allergic reaction or possibly ring worm. Frank made a very concerned face as soon as he saw the "bite." In fact he said, "I don't think that's a bite." I went and looked in the mirror, and it was bigger, and sort of redder, in the shape of a rectangle (multiple bumps). Not cool. I put a paste of baking soda and water on it to help take some of the heat out of the whatever it was, and that helped for a while.

Monday morning, I called and made an appointment with my doctor. They could get me in at 2:40, so I went to work and did my thing, leaving early to get to the doctor's, way across town, on time. I need not have hurried as they were short staffed, and I waited 35 minutes beyond my appointment. The nurse took me back and weighed me (hey! this heart healthy diet has paid off!) and then took my blood pressure and pulse (I didn't get to see the blood pressure, but the pulse looked good), and then asked what I was in for. I told her and she got a funny look on her face, asked to see it, the funny look got concerned, and then said, "Well, I'm putting it down as a rash, but I think it's shingles." I told her that I hoped she was wrong. "Me too." She told me she'd had them a little while back, just a small patch on her neck, but they went away in two days. So, I was trying to be hopeful.

My doctor came in and I told him what was happening (after we talked about Kirstine and how amazing her daughter is and how he still hasn't found a sailboat--I recommended buying one from a divorcing couple, and he said he's not very social so he doesn't know who's going through one. We both laughed).

He came over, took a look, and said, "Yes. It's shingles." DAMN IT. He asked if I'd been stressed recently (I went to him the first time because of stress-induced panic attacks that manifest as heart attacks--FUN!). No, I've been relatively relaxed lately, eating better, getting more exercise, etc. Maybe my body wasn't used to not being stressed? He smiled patiently at me. Apparently the three triggers for shingles are stress, decreased immune system, and disease (which I imagine is stressful and knocks your immune system around, so it's the double whammy). Or maybe, you just have to be me. C'est ma vie.

He typed up some prescriptions and told me it was very good that I'd come in so soon (the antibiotics are really only effective if you come in within the first 4 days), and that it wasn't contagious unless someone who had never had the chicken pox touched the spots. Since the shingles are appearing high on my side, there shouldn't be ANYONE touching me there, so I'm not really contagious. He did say that if they started hurting more than Tylenol could handle to call him and he'd phone in a prescription for something stronger. That scared me. I asked how long it would last, and he said three weeks to three months. There was no way of knowing.

I left the office, got the prescription, called Jordan for comfort (it's helpful to have a big sister who's a nurse and loves you), and then I called Frank. He'd already had the chicken pox, and being active military is immunized against everything, so he wasn't worried. I started feeling really, really upset, and he told me to come over so he could take care of me. I have to eat with each dose of steroids, so he made me a snack (cheese toast and grapes!), and let me just veg on the sofa. And then he let me create my own Monster Hunter 3 character, and I played that while he read more Honor Harrington (I've got him hooked!). Then he made dinner (one of his rice bowls--man, I really love parentheses), and we watched From Paris with Love, which I was surprisingly entertained by.

I tried to sleep, I really did, but I couldn't get much rest. And the bloody birds are super loud and chipper in the spring time. I woke up, called in to work, went to the store to get milk and a couple things to eat, and now am in bed with Copernicus, Scottia, and y'all. It's surprisingly not crowded in here.