A Comedy of Horrors...

I am going to start this off by saying thank you to my wonderful friend Aspen, who not only came up with the title of this post, but also in the process of helping me laugh about this situation, came up with a few other gems that you will find further on (I will give her credit for all of them). Thanks Spen, for being such a great friend, and helping me find the humor in my "comedy of horrors". Love ya!

This past Thursday morning while I was getting ready for work, I noticed a spot on my back that was very painful. It felt a little bit like there was something stuck in my bra strap, so I checked it only to find nothing. I was running late for work, so I just left thinking nothing else of it, because it would only hurt every once in a while when I moved. It continued all day, and seemed to be happening more and more as the day wore on. I left work early to go to an appt with my therapist, and while I was there I could not even lean back against the couch. When I got home, I asked Scott to look at it, to see if there was anything there. This was my first mistake...

He says, "you have shingles".

I say, "we're not friends anymore, you can go home".

He didn't think this was nearly as funny as I did, and wants to know why being the bearer of bad news makes him that bad guy. I'm still convinced that if he hadn't said that, the horrible burning spot would have just magically gone away while I slept that night. Or not, but that's what I'm saying, and I'm sticking with it.

After a horrible night of not being able to have anything even touch my back, I woke up at my normal time of 4:30, with major flu type symptoms. I had to go to work, so I got up and jumped in the shower. Serious mistake # 2. For future reference - when your back has spots on it that feel like they are on fire, getting in the shower is a VERY bad idea. I lived through that, and went to work. When I arrived I called our on-site health clinic, and told them I though there might be a possibility that I MIGHT have shingles. They told me to come right down. I don't feel good about this.

I arrive at the health clinic, and our local PA comes in. Side note - I would not trust this health clinic for anything more serious than a common cold, or confirming shingles, and you are about to read why. She asks me about my symptoms, says it's probably shingles, and that she should take a quick look to confirm. At this point, instead of having me change into a gown, she just lifts up my shirt to look. Remember that the worst of it is under my bra strap, and it has gotten really gross overnight. While trying to lift my bra strap to get a good look, I hear her say "Oh, ew! I just touched it!" Give me a freaking break. Nice job, and way to be professional. After quickly washing her hands, because no, she did not have gloves on, she confirms the diagnosis of shingles. You have GOT to be kidding me. Did I mention that I am going to Mexico in 4 days...?

We discuss medication options, and my choices are taking 5 giant pills a day, for a relatively cheap price, or 1 giant pill a day for 10 times the price. I chose 5 times a day. What have I got to do anyway, besides making sure I take a pill every 4 hours? She then tells me that shingles is a virus, and is currently doubling every 20 minutes in my body, and that the meds will only stop it from multiplying, but what is already "active", I will just have to get over, and my nasty open blister sores will probably continue to spread for 24-48 hours. Well, aren't you are just a barrel of sunshine?

I really needed to be at work that day, so I wanted to know if I was contagious or not. The answer I got?

"You are leaking infection from your ENTIRE body. Not just the oozing open wounds on your back, but your whole body, like your nose and stuff."

Ok, really? I'm leaking infection from my nose? And the rest of my ENTIRE body? Thanks, that makes me feel great. Or like a giant cloud of green, nasty ooze is all around me that everybody but me can see. Then?

"Don't worry" she says, "you can't give anyone shingles, you can only give someone the chicken pox, if they haven't had it."

Finally! The first helpful thing she says! Who hasn't had the chicken pox? I am totally fine to be at work. I think she knew that she had lifted my spirits a little, and that couldn't happen, so on my way out she has this little gem for me.

"You should also not be around anyone who has a weakened immune system, even if they have had the chicken pox."

What? Maybe someone like my boss, who is currently on chemotherapy for cancer? Like him? Fine. Oh, did I mention that I had a very important meeting with him in 2 hours? No? Well, thanks lady, for completely ruining my day. I don't like you anymore either.

On my way back upstairs, I devise this wonderful plan to cancel the meeting with my boss, and stay away from him all day, but still work. I get up there only find out that 2 people I work closely with have not had the chicken pox. Seriously? Freaks of nature. At this point I got bombarded with people wanting to see the blisters on my back. Gross. Let the puss ooze in peace people (thanks, Aspen!). I was resigned to going home, and as soon as my boss saw me, I was ordered out of the building. Message received - I'm going home. Before going home, I needed to get me prescription filled. I ran to the pharmacy downstairs in our building, because I was there, and it would be one less stop on the way home. My day was not about to get better. The crazy pharmacist says to me "I don't have enough pills to fill your prescription, but I should have it on Monday."

"I'll just take it to my local pharmacy" I say. What does he have to say to this?

"Haven't you learned that patience is a virtue?"

Ok, I have officially had it. I am at my wits end, and I truly can't be nice anymore.

"Not when a virus is currently multiplying in my body at a rate of double every 20 minutes."

He looked a little shocked, but was rescued from certain maiming, and possible death, when his assistant found some more in the back. Thank you very much, give me my medicine, and I am going home.

Upon arriving home, I call the aforementioned wonderful friend, because I know that she can help me see the humor in any situation. After getting a full work out laughing at my day, I try to get some sympathy for the fact that I am going to have a nasty scabby back on my vacation in Mexico. Her reaction?

"You are a genius! Take your white man's disease down to Mexico, give them all chicken pox, and take over Puerto Vallarta!" Or something similar to that.

I am indeed a genius. I will let you all know when I control my small portion of Mexico, and you can all come down to join me. See you soon...