Second verse, same as the first!
I woke up wanting to tear my skin off.
Non of the meds were working. I was tired. Itchy. Miserable.
I had become one GIANT HIVE.
(With huge boobs but who noticed.)
We called the in-laws to watch the kids and headed to the ER.
It was 11am.
The same time I had arrived home from my surgery 5 days earlier.
The same time I first noticed the red patch on my belly.
The next five hours were filled with IVs, meds and monitoring.
I was pumped full of steroids, Benadryl and Pepcid. (It's not just for reflux anymore.)
At the third hour a nurse came in with a heart monitor.
We're going to give you a shot of epinephrine so your heart might race a bit.
I wish I could write something funny and clever about the epinephrine but I can't.
It's not funny. I hated it. The end.
I left the E.R. at 4pm with prescriptions for Allegra, Prednisone and Pepcid.
(And no definitive answer on what caused the allergic reaction.)
I was still itchy but the original points of eruption were beginning to fade so there was a light at the end of the tunnel.
By Tuesday the hives were gone. GONE!
By Thursday I was finished taking the medications and actually dared to apply some lotion to my poor skin that is currently being stretched beyond its limits.
Today. Saturday June 21st 2008.
It's now a week after my E.R. trip and I am still hive free.
I still experience some residual itching which I am hoping will go away.
(Someone please tell me it will go away!)
The rest of me is doing very nicely as well.
My incisions are beginning to itch, but in a good way.
They are healing and I can now laugh, sneeze and cough without fear of jettisoning these puppies out of my chest cavity and clear across the room.
(Though we are still going to wait another week before seeing GET SMART because that kind of laughter would surely kill me.)
(I only got as far as BALLSACK! in the special AppleTV trailer.)
I am still sleeping on my back and somewhat upright because... well, I am a baby. If I move onto my side *they* will move too. I tried it on Thursday night. And it just felt too creepy for me to sleep through it.
Today I head out to pick up some temporary undergarments because I DON'T HAVE ANY BRAS THAT FIT ME.
Temporary, you see, because right now I am swollen to the point of looking like I've been plucked out of a classic 19th Century painting with my vulgar and romanticized curves. Curves which will in time soften and leave me feeling more *natural* but until then I need a little something to support and conceal.
So off I go to fumble through the racks of bras trying to find one that will fit my rack.
Here I am. 38 years old and feeling like I am going through puberty all over again and getting my first training bra.
And what a training bra it will be!