WARNING: Extremely lengthy but somewhat funny post to follow.
Despite the night, the next day was great! We headed to the lake and even tho it was crowded we had some good sun and played on the beach a bit. I still didn't feel very well but really wanted to go boating. We went out and Mike wake skated for the first time. I tried. Although I got up, I probably only stayed up for 4.5 seconds. I decided to switch to what I could do better and wake-boarded. I'm no pro but I can get up and stay up (no tricks, mind you). The weather started to turn so the water got really choppy by the time I got to wake-boarding. I wasn't staying up as long so I told Mike's brother "one more time". Famous last words, right? I got up and was bumping around on the choppy water. I decided to go out of the wake so I maneuver right and get a little too much speed going out of the wake. Not being smart... I gave forward and flew face first into the water. The wake board comes off my feet, flips up and the side edge hits me square in the chin. Ouch. I never understood the expression "cleaned my clock" quite as well. So I get out and the board gave me a 2 inch cut on my chin. Wonderful. It was more of scratch so it didn't bleed long but looked lovely on my face. More than that... my jaw killed. I could barely open my mouth to chew the delicious cobb salad Mel brought for lunch. Bummer. Feeling like I'd been punched in the face by a 300 lb man = Comedic Error #3. On top of that, while trying to recover me from the water and with windy weather, the rope got caught in the prop. Mike and Wyatt spent 15 minutes trying to get that untangled and ended up with a cut rope. Stranded on a boat in the cold watching boys take turns over and over-- one goes under, next comes up... resulting in a cut rope = Comedic Error #3 and 1/2. The rest of the day was good. We had delicious food (spaghetti and cobbler-- yum!) and hung around the fire pit talking-- which I love. Mike's family is fantastic and always make me laugh. There are a lot of kids, which I also love and they're all adorable. They always keep it interesting!
However, that night I was still feeling it. My chin and jaw I could live with but my nose had continued to run none stop and I was quickly going through my 3 bags of tissues and 1 box. The problem with that was that the combination of being a little sick and the compounding allergies resulted in my asthma increasingly becoming aggravated. For those of you who don't know, I've had asthma since I was a kid but it typically isn't a problem except when I get sick. I brought my inhaler so I was using that every 5 hours or so.
The next day it was rainy. Bummer. But the high point was that we got to play lots of games-- which Mike and I LOVE! While we were there we played some of our favs: Acquire, Tripoly and Scrabble. That night was the worst for me. Cold + allergies + sickness = bad coughing and no breathing. The interval for me taking my inhaler kept getting smaller. That night I found it hard to eat because I couldn't stop breathing long enough to chew my food. Probably should have realized that was a problem. When I woke up I was taking my inhaler every 1-2 hours. I know I shouldn't do that because it's bad for my heart but it was that or breathe. =) I made a command decision.
The next morning we packed up and headed home. I was very excited to shower and take a breathing treatment. Right before the treatment, I knew it was bad. I could barely walk up the stairs and gathering my materials I was really forcing the air in and out. But I know my treatments always fix it. I finished it and felt good... for about 10 minutes. After that I was back to heaving and wheezing. I've never not had relief from a treatment so that was weird for me. After I couldn't fall asleep, I called my dad to ask how often I could take a breathing treatment and long story short (or at least shorter)... Mike and I were at Logan's InstaCare. InstaCare on a Sunday night = Comedic Error #4.
A nurse at my dad's health care advise line said they would likely give me an oral steroid. I was ready for that. They brought me in and while getting information they said I had a fever. The nurse gave me a mask to wear that covered my nose and mouth. (side note: Isn't it funny that my problem is that I can't breathe and as I'm forcing air in and out, not being able to finish a sentence without having to stop and take breaths in between... she gives me something to wear that covers both my mouth and nose. As far as I know, those are pretty much the only two ports for air. Basically, comprising the necessities of breathing, right? Hmmm... think about that). After the doctor comes in and hears the problem it's a whirlwind of "fun". After listening to my lungs, he tells me he's going to give me another treatment again and that I need to take a steroid immediately. Okay, nothing surprising there. But unfortunately, I had progressed too far for an oral steroid. Which left me with a shot. Joy. In my butt. Bigger Joy. A shot in my butt... that was a first. The doctor told me it would be painful (nice) and started me on a treatment. As soon as I started that a nurse comes in and says she needs to give me my shot. During my treatment. So I'm standing at the edge of the table with a tube in my mouth, pants down, holding Mike's hand, both of us trying not to laugh but me partially wanting to cry as this nurse gives me a shot smack in the buttock. She said she didn't know what the doctor was talking about and that it wouldn't hurt more than any other shot. One, two, three... all was good. It didn't hurt and so after giving me a Taz band-aid (probably TMI) on the rump and as I'm priding myself that I must have one tough butt since that didn't hurt hardly at all after the doctor said it would.... ouch. That thing started to throb! Apparently, injected steroids like that make your butt ache for a couple days. Butt shot = Comedic Error #5. So now I'm sitting there, having received my violating shot, squirming on the table trying to find relief, still doing the treatment and a nurse comes in and says since I have a fever she's going to swab my nose for influenza. Also never had that happen before. So still breathing through a tube, the nurse takes a cotton swab and "goes where the boogies go" (her words, not mine). Uhh... there are no boogies that far up. Insert coughing and extreme eye watering. Boogie swab = Comedic Error #6. After the treatment, the doctor ordered a chest X-ray. (Those are going to be fun medical bills!) We finished at 8:30 p.m. when the doctor said I didn't have swine flu and the fever was probably cause my body was working so hard to breathe. Good. There was no fluid in my lungs. Also good. But there was inflammation. Not so good. So now I'm popping 3 prednisone (steroids) a day for the next 2 weeks, taking an inhaled steroid twice a day and breathing treatments every 4 hours. (I HATE taking medications!) The side effects being irritability, mood swings and increased weight gain. My reaction: "Weight gain??" Mike's reaction: "Mood swings?!" =) Megan the roid popper = Comedic Error #7. Whew... it was quite the Sunday evening. All in all, I hate going to the doctor and really debated going in. In retrospect, I guess I'm grateful I did. The doctor said I was going downhill fast and would have been in the E.R. soon because I had progressed so far. Thank goodness for Mike who encouraged me to go in, held my hand through the unexpected and took care of me all night.
Although I've put this "Comedy of Errors" spin on the weekend, it was actually very nice to get away. I love the Mansfield's and I have so much fun with them. As for the not being able to breathe part... I've learned my lesson and I'm left with a story that makes me laugh. The summer has been laid back and I haven't been sick for 3 months. That's pretty good for me! I guess I was due. When it rains... it pours, right? =)
