Yesterday began as a hopeful election day. It ended late into the night, the darkness of winter a stark reality. Hopeful. Optimistic. Upbeat. Positive. All these traits naturally hang around me like colorful flags waving in the breeze of my life. Not much breeze or flag flying this morning. Read on.
Doctors are not part of my routine. Anyone who knows me knows I have little interest in hanging out in a doctor’s office complaining, to whom ever will listen, about my lumbago, (of which I don’t suffer). If I break a bone, I will go to urgent care and get it set. Otherwise, I’m not interested wasting time listening to someone’s educated opinion about all the things that may or may not BE wrong or GO wrong with MY body. I am in tune with my daily aches and pains, and will accept the outcome of MY decision on this. It is non-negotiable. With that being said, one would be correct in deducing that I do not take medications or vaccinations. I fully embrace the fact that my life may be shortened or extended due to this, my own personal decision.
I have self quarantined like the rest of the world, and during my grief, this has given me privacy to do all the things grieving widows do. Yesterday, I found the following quote by Franz Wright from his book “Walking to Martha’s Vineyard”.
“Death doesn’t prevent me from loving you… Besides, In my opinion, you aren’t dead. (I know dead people, and you are not dead).” VST understands this logic completely.
Yesterday, a dear girlfriend and I decided to share lunch on election day. It had started out that we would share an evening election party, but, after thinking about a very long drive on the Loneliest Highway in America, we decided against it. Two babes jetting out into the night in a White Jeep Wrangler along such a deserted highway would be asking for trouble. Include the fact that black horses crossing a highway on a blacker night spells instant death, and a lunch date seemed far more appropriate. Over spaghetti and garlic bread we remembered our dear husbands, who were dear friends with each other. Miss Firecracker (FC) is a more recent widow than I, and we had lots to share about our guys.
When I got home, I felt an electrical sunburn-ish feeling on my right cheek in a localized area near my eye . Hmmmmm. It was uncomfortable and not something I could just ignore. It then hit me. My aversion to doctors had left me without an office to call. This situation very well escalate to the level of a broken bone quickly. At 2:00 pm, I had little time to sit around and wonder just “What? Oh what?” the problem could be.
I sprang into action, not waiting another minute. I did have an educated idea about what this could be. SHINGLES. This topic had been discussed with two different girlfriends in the past few days, and now, their voices rang clear. “If it happens to you, DON’T wait.” At this point my skin looked normal. Nothing to see there. But, the underlying pain was not anything to mess with.
My newly acquired health card, issued as I await my 65th birthday, was in my wallet. Luckily, my plan has a feature for Tele-Docs. I quickly downloaded the app and phoned in. In less than two hours, I had spoken to a lovely physician of my choosing, had an anti-viral prescription phoned to the local pharmacy, driven to retrieve medication, stopped and picked up a Subway sandwich, consumed dinner, and taken my first pill. 1,000 mg., 3x a day for 7 days. By taking this medication, according to the doctor, if I was LUCKY, I might not get any blisters at all.
Lucky?????????? In 2020??????? Lucky would mean VST would still be here. Lucky would mean we would be yelling at election results together, and mourning the loss of so many beautiful things about our country that are vanishing as I write this. Lucky would mean that my face doesn’t feel like it is on fire, with a dose of electricity running through it. Lucky doesn’t seem to be hanging around my door too often these days.
Wait. That thinking needed change immediately. I rebooted my brain.
I am thankful for the beautiful physician that confirmed what I already knew. I am thankful that I have the resources and awareness to get on medication before this gets worse. I am thankful that I am a healthy woman with common ailment, quite treatable. I am thankful I have great friends that gave me a head’s up. I am thankful for my new Cuisanart Ice Cream maker, because, everything is better with ice cream on the side. I am thankful Sweet Mr. Mud Duck’s phone call was patient and supportive, assuring me that I would feel better with medication. I am thankful for our sweet kids’ election texts, from kids that are really not kids but adults. I am thankful that God doesn’t give me more than I can handle.
Miracle of miracles, I am the luckiest woman in the world flying the flag of hopeful optimism again, even if the breeze barely blows right now.
Gratitude. Embrace it today. These are the scariest of times. Be Grateful for the beauty of your moments.
Terrific timing! Fuss about Oliie’s $70 well dog exam one day — get hit with Shingles the next!
That’ll learn ya for taking better care of your pet than your own sweet self! I’m truly sorry “for yr troubles” as the old Irish lady said …but I’d be that much mollified to hear that you’ll consider getting yourself the new two pronged shot set once you recover. You can get them more than once and possible blindness is a bad chance to take. The doctor’s dotter concludes her grumble.
Hey there,
Thanks for the advice. I get very ill from vaccines. Repeated experience.
Doesn’t matter the type. So sick, even from tetanus shot. So, it is not without experience that I make this decision. On the up side, the medicine is working beautifully. All my symptoms are almost gone without a rash. I was so lucky to get on the phone within hours of initial weird feeling. The doctor said because it was early, I may not have any outbreak. So wonderful.
Funny thing. Oliver, too, had a horrible reaction to the dog flu shot. Had two shots 2 weeks apart. Both times, explosive diarrhea, fever, lethargy for 24 hours. I won’t give him that one again. The others don’t bother him. Oliver NEVER has diarrhea. Explosive or otherwise. So, the reproducible symptoms were from the shots. The vet agreed. Dog vaccines are a money maker, too. They are good for three years, per manufacturers label. Kennels require them yearly. Cha-ching.