Friday, June 11, 2004

And the hits keep coming
Yesterday, after two weeks of worrying and eating meals served with a side dish of trepidation that I might have another allergic reaction, I finally had my appointment at the allergy clinic. As it turns out, and much as I suspected, I was found to not have any allergies. So, I can either continue on as before the anaphylactic shock thingy, or I can one day expect to be jabbing the ole epi-pen into my thigh. My choice.
Spent the afternoon signing a contract for a job, and then went climbing. I was pretty tired, but also relieved. Woke up this morning after a restless night, and prepared my daily bowl of coffee. However, when I went to sip it, my lips behaved as though they had been injected with Novocaine, resulting in the java dribbling down my chin. Aw fuck, thinks I, don't tell me I'm having another ischemic attack. The milliner's a bit worried, trying to point out that my face looks different, but I'm having none of that. I had planned a day outdoors before heading back to work on Monday, and no way was I going to cancel. However, by the time I got to the rendez-vous, reality got the better of me and I called off the day, thinking that I was simply slow by nature and finally reacting to the stuff given to me the day previous.
Head back to the hospital (again), go up to the clinic and give them the low down. The doc checks me out and takes me down (again) to emergency. When I finally get to see the med student--is it just me or do they make them really young these days?--I'm made to wait a bit longer until the attending comes in, (again) checks me out and says, "well, you've got Bell's Palsy." Cool, I can't smile, can't eat properly, and can't close my right eye, which I'll have to tape shut at night. Thankfully, things should right themselves in a couple weeks, but I'm sure I won't be making a great impression at the new job, what with all the drooling and everything.
I swear to gawd, I'm starting to feel like Paul Pfeiffer from the Wonder Years.


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