So the last couple of weeks have been less than pleasant on this end of the world. As I am not sure how many people are familiar with the recent happenings, I will try and give a short description of what has been my life.
I was put on antibiotics on 18 March, after which Molly and I went to New Jersey for the wedding. It was the most over the top affair I have ever been to. It was a very very Catholic affair, with a large dose of Irish tossed in for good measure. The priest pronounced “sacrament” as “sarcament” every time he said it, as well as all the other words that could stereotypically be pronounced with the “r” and “c” in the wrong order. It was very endearing. There was lots of standing and sitting and standing and sitting and after about 1 ½ hours they were married. We then went to the reception, which was held at a truly impressive manor. There was a huge spread of appetizers and champagne and a very nice dinner. Anyway, it was a very nice time in short.
So we came home on Sunday and on Monday I actually got a decent amount of work done. On Tuesday I started feeling a little flu-like and spent Tuesday night developing a nice fever and all the other symptoms that go along with it. By Thursday I was as sick as I ever remember being and stopped the drugs I had been put on, just because I thought it may be a good idea. Friday morning I woke up covered head to toe in what appeared to be a third degree sunburn (ok, the bottoms of my feet were ok, but that was the only spot). I spent 2 hours trying to get a hold of my doctor that prescribed the medication only to run into the brick wall of the reception desk. When they finally got in touch they told me to “take a couple Benedryl and talk to them on Monday, and to call that afternoon if it got worse.” Well, Molly pretty much made the decision that that was retarded and we went to the Tufts Health Clinic. They took my temperature, looked at me and about 20 minutes later I was in the emergency room.
I spent the next 30 hours in the hospital having a rather long string of doctors come and admire the state my body was in having drugs pumped into me and basically being not too happy. The end result was the I reacted about as badly to the drugs (Bactrim, of the Sulfa family) as is possible without fully developing Steven-Johnsons Syndrome (thank God).
The last week has been trying to recover. I have been out of school for the entire time and am now faced with the prospect of finishing everything as I am supposed to graduate in a month or so (I had planned to spend Spring Break working on my thesis and getting a jump on the end of school here so that I can enjoy the last month, but that did not happen). Things seem to be going well on a whole. I have just been resting and today I looked at the disaster that is my thesis, which I think is about to be shipped to my advisor for comment and in a best- case scenario taken away from me so that I can concentrate on all the other stuff hanging over my head.
So there you go. It has been an interesting time. Most of all I am just grateful that Molly has been such a huge support to me through this whole ordeal, especially as she is “old” as of this Friday (April 7) when she joins me across the 30-year threshold.
