A Walking Biological Weapon

Well, not really. But, I do have Staph Infection. Fun. First one.

It started out just looking like a bite from perhaps a spider or some other creature bent on it's own annoying survival around last Tuesday. It progressed much like a normal bite would, it became a bump with a small red circle around it, then a large bump with a large red circle around it (I was beginning to see a pattern). Thursday night, having no idea what this damn thing was, I decided it might be a good idea to go to the ER, as pain was beginning to resonate from the area every time I moved my hand or a sleeve over it. So the journey began.

It was about an hour wait in the ER before I was called back (I wasn't expecting a record time in treatment). There I was on a bed for about another thirty minutes. The doctor came, left, and then after about another forty minutes a nurse came and gave me medicine and said I was good to go. In total, excluding my friends who escorted me there out of boredom, I probably talked to another human for a total of four minutes.

I got back to my place around 3:30 am. Fatigued for class the next day? That's a yes. I made use of the time I had by sleeping in, which is something that doctors need to prescribe more often. To celebrate my little odd looking infection on my arm, I went that night to go see Zombieland with some friends at the dollar theater on campus, as it was only appropriate to watch a zombie movie with a zombie-ish looking infection. After that it was once again time to pass out, to which I promptly did.

Saturday consisted of prepping for a party at my place to celebrate the Saints actually having won a Championship game in ever. Andrew and I went out all day getting supplies like food, alcohol, and even commandeered our friends Rock Band 1&2 plus The Beatles Rock band. The stage was set, an awesome party was about to ensue. And then it didn't. Most people who said they would show up, did not. Their excuses? My friend came into town (ok, I can see that, somewhat), I feel asleep (ok now we're pushing the understanding here), and I'm depressed (really? really?). Parties are great to go to if you're depressed, they let you vent some steam, and focus your mind on things that aren't depressing, like partying!

Putting aside having food for 40 people and only getting, at one time, seven, and only eight in total showing up, the party didn't completely crash. Most of the time was spent playing Rock Band and its sequels. Then a quick listen to the comedian Dan Cummins (look him up) and a game of kings. Kings is a drinking game, I was on meds, bad decisions were made. I didn't drink alot, I only had two mixers, so I figured the effects would be light a generally looked over.

When the party ended Andrew and I bounced to a party at Kris's where I played Beer Dodgeball (upon request I will make a blog of the rules), also a drinking game. I downed two beers there. My mixers were fairly close together with about an hour and a half break to the two beers which were equally close. Over time I drank that much in a total of about 6 hours.

That night, nobody was ready for it. I got home feeling fine enough, in fact so fine I didn't even feel buzzed. But deep within my intestines and other insides that do stuff for my survival, a storm was brewing. I had to take more meds before going to bed so I did. I wasn't able to sleep at all. Over the course of the night, I threw up six times, my lower back began to hurt like it does when you get sick, and I received a slight sinus headache. At best I was able to rest for 2 hours. Sunday was spent not eating (probably the most horrid tragedy of this story yet), going back to the ER to confirm my infection as Staph and not a whack ass spider bite, and sleeping. NyQuil helped me get some rest and cover my back aches and high temperature.

All of this still does not explain my urge to jump at people and rub my arm on them (where the staph infection is), or the desire to freak out my hypochondriac roommate. I keep telling him its the Anthrax, not the Staph, he needs to worry about.

On one last note, I'm not sure if its the meds or because my imagination is awesome, but I've been experiencing some whack ass dreams.