...and I whined and bitched about it for days.
So, I have these shingles, and they suck. It started Saturday night, with really bad pain in my right upper leg (right in the leg fold). I thought maybe I had pulled a muscle or something, and thought that it would be better in the morning when I woke up. I had a hard time getting comfortable and sleeping, and the pain was even worse the next day. Also, I noticed that a rash had popped up around my thigh and onto my butt. Fearing that it might be the staph infection back, I just ignored it and the pain and went about my day. After hours and hours of really bad pain, I finally told some friends that I was with and one of them brilliantly suggested that it might be shingles. Of course! Pain then rash--that is exactly what happened with Dad, only that poor guy had them on his face. I got in to a doctor Monday morning (thanks, walk-in hours) and got the official diagnosis and tons of bright blue horse pills and pain patches.
It sucks. It hurts really badly and the pain gets worse as the day goes on. I can't wear pants, cause it would rub up against the rash too much. I get really tired and loopy and there is constant pain, pain that comes and goes and then the burning sensation from the rash.
All day Monday people loved to tell me that it could be worse. Well, true--anything could be worse. I am very grateful that it isn't somewhere visable or more painful. But I still wish that it wasn't there.
The timing is terrible. I have been looking forward to our trip and being on the road for so long, and now the thought of doing anything but sleep is daunting. Walking hurts. I am pissed that it has taken away the excitement of the trip. That I can't go swimming. That I was finally doing SO GOOD and FEELING GREAT but yet again I have something else to overcome. And I am especially pissed that I can't call Dad and tell him that I know how he felt when he had them.
I cried all day Monday, from start to finish. I could not stop for anything. Fortunately, I kept it together in the doctors office, but the rest of the day was miserable. Work was hard, I was sad and worn down and having a giant pity party that I couldn't shake. To add insult to injury--literally--the nurse at the doctors office couldn't believe that I weighed as much as I do and insisted that her scale is broken. I had to reassure her that the weight on the scale was in fact accurate. Jeez.
So, Fuzzy and I decided that instead of doing the 15 hour drive to Biloxi in one day, that we should take our time and rest as much as we need to, so we are leaving this evening. We are going to drive as far as we can, and then knock out the rest tomorrow. Then we'll be on the coast! The wedding! Family! Then Christopher and Katie then crabcakes! So life isn't bad, I just need to suck it up.
I probably won't be blogging too much while we are gone, but I will when I can.
And now, I am going back to sleep.
xo
