So, here is how it went down. All the prurient details.
2 weeks ago I was chugging along at work. And when I say chugging, I mean really knocking it out of the park. I had been brought in on a digital project, not normally my milieu, but the people were so delightful and appreciative...and that's the kind of shit that turns me into super-employee. I go above and beyond. I am calm, capable, and oh-so-resourceful.
It was a love fest. I was getting daily props from all over the building for pulling out miracle moves that were really quite generic. But, you know, new audiences are often impressed by old tricks. And then, on Wednesday I had a little file-type snafu and had to run downstairs at 6 pm to corral an art director and a retoucher and just get it fixed. No biggie, took 5 minutes, really. But as I stood there, I remember thinking that my legs hurt, like ached. Like I needed to take off my shoes. So I did. (Yes, shoelessness is totally fine in our company dress code.) I was wondering if maybe the cortisone shot I'd had in my knee (the week before, yes I am old!) was the problem, maybe too high a heel so soon after that? But I wear heels often. And it was both legs hurting. Odd...
So I decided I was just tired and I left. I was done. Cooked. I got into the elevator and I was not even able to make small talk or check my phone. I was doing the JWH marathon thing where I was like, "you can totally get to the garage, just like 50 steps and then you can sit down, one, two, three, four..." And then on the street some lady was laying on the sidewalk. She had fallen and hit her head. And I made the universal "are you calling 911?" gesture at a colleague who was there, got the nod and walked on by. This is not like me. I did recognize that I was acting aberrantly at this point, and for a second I thought maybe I should stay by this lady, so, you know, in case I really did pass out, the EMTs were like totally already on the way...Hooray for the logic of the ill!
Anyway, I made it home. And in my own garage I had a flash of inspiration - I was tired because I could not breathe! Ahhh, yessss, lack of oxygen does that and, yes, it also makes you damned stupid. So I used my inhaler and headed up to the house, expecting salvation.
Instead I started to shake uncontrollably.
Silly me pretended to be just fine and sent the nanny home and took the Bun up to bed with me. Wild Kratts for her, a little R&R for me. Totally solid decision making, right? Except when I found that I could not get up. Nope, just not happening. And JWH was in flight somewhere over Connecticut, I'd guess, at that point. So, I devised a plan to have the Bun just sleep with me till her dad got home. She was game and I was like "winning! I have such a cooperative child!"
I also texted JWH all sorts of scary things like, "get home now," "shaking," "can't get up." Poor dude got them upon landing and kinda freaked. But, he's good in crisis and got me Tylenol (fever 103!) and called the doctor ("ER, now!) and his parents to watch the (sleeping) kid. And off we went.
At the ER, or, as I have since learned the pros call it - the ED, they stuck something waaaaaay up my nose, gave me an IV, a chest X-Ray and took a few gallons of my blood. And then I slept for 72 hours.
But, that was weeks ago now and I am totally on the mend. I got the all clear yesterday to return to work full time and even exercise again! Woot!* I'll have a chest x-ray next week to make sure we are totally all good. And then? I am treating anyone with so much as a sniffle as my mortal enemy - this means you, JWH!
*Stay tuned for my whining posts on how little I can run and how out of shape I am. Sure to come.