So, after that blog the other morning, I did end up going to the doctor. Unfortunately, since Bryan had just recently had a fever that lasted a short 24 hours, and since I popped 800mg of ibuprofen after my 102.6 reading that morning and got my temp down to a breezy 98.6, my doc, Bryan and I all kind of figured I must be on the upward slope. My doctor gave me some cough syrup with a nice narcotic mixed in and home we went.
Bryan headed to work for a few hours that afternoon, and I crashed on the couch. I was hot... real hot... and could tell the fever was back full force, but I definitely did not have the energy to go looking for the thermometer. When Bryan called to say he was headed home around 5:30, though, I was roasting and did make the effort to take my temperature. It was a lofty 103.6.
Bryan asked if we should go to the hospital, but unfortunately my thinker wasn't working so well whilst swimming around in my boiling head, so I called my boss, Sue. Man, I can not tell you how grateful I am to have a doctor--and her in particular--as a boss. She instructed me to go to the ER immediately, so I did.
If you live in the Richmond area and need emergent care, I highly recommend you go to one of the Bon Secours hospitals. They have a 30 minute guarantee to see you there, and I was back in an exam room in less than 15. At this point I was concerned my throat may be swelling, because that's a possibility with angioedema, an autoimmune disease I have. The ER doc called my specialist, who told him if that was what was happening it would be manifesting totally differently, so thankfully I wasn't dying. Except then I got a throat x-ray, and the ER doc came back and said he was very concerned because some things looked really bad, so he called in the Ear/Nose/Throat doc (ENT). Who told me I had something that was very, very serious.
It's called epiglottitis. It's an infection of that little flap that closes your nasal passageway from your throat. At this point I could barely swallow (the pain to do so was an easy 10) and I couldn't talk. So they got the IV in, some nice, friendly morphine, started some antibiotics, and admitted me to the ICU. Luckily my breathing wasn't really affected, so we decided to just keep a very close eye on that rather than intubate me (which the ENT really seemed to want to do).
So I spent the first night in the ICU, then got moved to a regular room yesterday. I've been, thankfully, steadily getting better, so I was able to come home today. I still feel like total crap, and the ENT told me it'll be several weeks before my voice is back to normal, but whatever. I was actually able to start eating oatmeal and soup yesterday after not eating for over 24 hours, so that made me very happy. And then this morning I even ate some scrambled eggs! I got to talk to my mom and grandma and Jodie last night, and my dear dad and friend Leslie even came by to keep me company for a little while. And the staff at St. Francis is wonderful... I know where I'll be having a baby if I ever get blessed with that experience.
Through all this, my husband has been right by my side. He stayed in the hospital with me both nights and has been taking very good care of me. I know this has been tough for him because he is still very sick himself (though if you ask him he'll say he's not). I thank God every chance I get for such a wonderful man by my side. He is truly the man of my dreams, and I don't know what I'd do without him. My grandma gave him what I believe is the highest compliment anyone could bestow upon him this morning. She said, "He reminds me more and more of your Grandpop." And she's right. And now I'm crying about how much I love him for like the fifth time today. But that's good. I am a very lucky girl.