Pretty much everyone who reads my blog is already my Facebook friend, so you all are more than well-aware of my ridiculous situation this week. I thought I'd just do a quick blog about it, since, let's be honest, I really have nothing else to do.
On Tuesday, I left work early because I was feeling sick. Wednesday, I woke up with a temperature of 100.4. Uh, oh. I called my doctor's office, described my symptoms, and they asked me not to come in. Then they called back about 2 hours later and said that they had reconsidered and they wanted me to come back in so that they could check my vitals. I told them that I felt like crap and I really didn't want to come, but they insisted. (Someone clearly got ahold of my chart, saw that I have a history of SVT during infections, and told the nurse to get me in before they got sued for malpractice.) Of course, as I sat in the waiting room, I was made to wear a mask. Being asked to wear a mask is perhaps the most stigmatizing thing that can happen to someone this season. There was a woman in the waiting room who I am certain was a mentally-ill streetwalker (she was talking to herself about restraining orders, she was horribly underweight, and was wearing an "I just qualified for a home loan with the help of ACORN" outfit), and even she gave me a disdainful look as if I was an absolutely gross, germ-ridden human being. The outlook is not good, my friends, when you have prostitutes thinking that you are nasty.
Anyway, my vitals were normal ("normal" for me being: low blood pressure 107/60, high resting pulse 80, and low body temp 98 degrees). They did this heinous flu test which I am warning you all about now - it involves a long straw with a small bottle washer at the end which is stuck so far up your nose that I am certain it dislodges parts of your brain. Of course, this test had to be done twice - one is a "Rapid Flu" test and one has to be cultured, so it will take about a week . By the time the cultured test results are in, I'll be back amongst the members of society, so I don't know why it even matters. Perhaps I can be another notch on the San Diego Public Health Department's H1N1 belt. I was told that I should start "Tamiflu" and that I was not to leave my apartment for 72 hours. I told them I'd just finished my library book, and asked if I could go to the library. They said "no" and suggested that I have someone drop off books at my apartment door. See, I was just testing them to determine how legit of a quarantine they expected. Clearly, this one is to be pretty legit.
Thankfully, both Rose and my sister, Katie, were brave enough to cross the quarantine caution tape and bring me items to entertain myself and soothe my illness. Katie appeared with a plastic bag of DVDs, cough drops and a Ziplock bag of large, white, unmarked pills. (I was hoping for muscle relaxers, but she later confirmed that they were Vitamin C. Darn.) Rose came fully armed with a Jamba Juice smoothie, magazines, dvds, two trashy novels, honey, limes, and Emergen-C. You see, Rose had this illness in the days prior to my own infection, so she was really dialed in on the needs of an ill, house-bound person.
The factor that I am dealing with that is making my quarantine slightly more miserable is the Santa Anas. It is hot as hell, and although I am thrilled to death that I don't live in the blazing inland inferno that is El Cajon, it is still pretty sizzlin' here in Point Loma. See, I live relatively close to the beach, so I don't have air conditioning. I also only have west-facing windows, so there is absolutely no cross-ventilation. Okay, I am going to admit a very bad thing that I did yesterday in sheer desperation: I opened the door to my apartment building in an attempt to get some cross-winds. Now, this might not seem so bad if my door didn't open into an interior hallway and I didn't potentially have a pandemic virus. I realized after about 10 minutes that my attempt to get some ventilation was possibly endangering other members of society. Whoops. My bad.
Anyhow, I got through yesterday and now I am on Day 2 of Quarantine. Today is when the Trifecta hit - they started demolishing the apartment next door. Seriously? Really? I (possibly) have the swine flu, it is hot as hell and now I have the horrific racket of an apartment being ripped to shreds. This is like some sort of joke. You know that movie, "The Money Pit"? (My sister and I watched it all the time when we were kids, because we loved, loved, loved Shelly Long.) I feel like my life this week is reminiscent to the "Money Pit". I am afraid that it is only a matter of time before I fall through the floorboards while wedged into an Oriental rug.