I'm Special

Last Thursday, I went to my doctor to get the results of routine tests. He declared that I had the healthy body of a 12 year old girl. I wanted to reply, but didn't, "Are you sure that was my blood?" Instead, I just grinned and thanked him for giving me a clean bill of health. It had been a long time since I've had a check-up and I hadn't realized how much I was worrying about my health. I felt like a load had been lifted.

He told me the only reason he'd need to see me is if I needed to see him. Then he announced I was to receive a pneumonia shot and whisked himself out of the room dashingly. A nurse came in and to give me the shot right in my upper arm muscle. We chatted about mundane things and then I was free to go. I practically skipped to my car with the lift the good news had given me.

I was also giddy because, I had decided to take a vacation day on Friday. I was looking forward to three and a half days of carefree leisure time. I spent the morning with the kids and around noon, I prepared to go to the Salvation Army and to see my therapist; it was a day to unload baggage of the real and metaphorical type. I took ten bags of clothes and dropped them off. Then I went inside and got Doc five pairs of pants and two vests for 30 bucks. The pants were all very nice and barely worn and labeled by the likes of the Gap, Levis, Eddie Bauer, Calvin Klein, and DKNY.

After I went to my therapist, I made my way home and spent a pleasureable afternoon hanging out with my family. Then, around five o'clock, I started to feel like all of my energy was sliding out of me through the bottoms of my feet. I went to lie down for an hour and woke up feeling a bit better. At around 9:00 p.m., we put the kids to bed and Doc went to the neighbor's house while I settled in with a book. I was laying on the couch reading for a couple of hours when I heard Riley get up and make her way to my room. I worried that she would get there and be upset that no one was in there, so I got up and joined her.

I needn't have worried, as she walked to our bedroom, climbed into Doc's side of the bed and cuddled up without ever waking up, it seemed. By the time I got to the bedroom, a definate chill had set into my bones. I popped in a DVD of All Creatures Great and Small and snuggled under our many blankets (one down comforter, one regular comforter, a wool army blanket, a quilt and flannel sheets) and tried to get warm. It wasn't happening. I waited to warm up for about an hour and called the neighbor's house to summon Doc home. My hands were shivering so dramatically, I could barely dial the number.

When Doc got home, I was in a near panic. I probably should have gone to the emergency room. But once I was warmed up with the extra body heat in the bed, I felt much better and was able to sleep. However, the next morning I woke up with the same problem, plus now my upper arm that took the shot hurt like it had been slammed in a steel door. I called my doctor and told him what was going on and that it had to be from the shot. He got defensive and said that they've given the shot to over 200 people and no one ever had this reaction. He avered that it couldn't be from the shot and told me to take two ibuprofen and leave him the fuck alone on the weekend. Well, he didn't say that last part, but it was implied. He told me if it got worse, I should go to the ER.

When I told my parents about this exchange, my Dad commented that a half percent of the people who have taken the shot have suffered, meaning me. After a scant two minutes searching on the internet, I found this out about the nefarious pneumonia shot:

A few people (less than 1 percent) had fever and muscle pain as well as more serious swelling and pain on the arm.

My Dad, he's a smart one. Each day, the swelling has grown and the fevers persist. The area where the shot was givin is now about three inches sqare and is hot enough to fry an egg on. I can't lift my left arm at the shoulder because of the pain that radiates out from my upper arm to the middle of my back. I'm still periodically getting fevers, but a little Tylenol at the right moment has helped me to avoid the chills.

So, the thrill is gone from my clean bill of health and the honeymoon is over with my new and once beloved doctor. I'm going to try to plow through this on my own, but I'd love to march into his office and reveal the blazing after effects of his alleged harmless shot. If today passes with more fevers and continued pain, I might just do that. In the meantime, I'll try to find a way to blame this all on Mel Gibson. Any suggestions?