Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Remembering January 12

January 12 wasn't that long ago. In fact, right now that was just two weeks ago. But it was probably the most horrible day during the month and a half I was sick. I was actually getting better from pneumonia, but my shingles was just starting. The day before (January 11) we went to a dermatologist to show her the rashes that appeared on my back. She did confirm it was herpes zoster, in other words, shingles. She prescribed a set of really powerful drugs, but she wanted my other doctors to confirm if I could take them, given my other conditions. And they went ahead and said I ought to go and take the drugs. At the back of my mind it was quite a relief because I wanted a solution right away to my shingles and if these powerful drugs can make it go away quickly then I'm all for it.

So the night of January 11 I took my first dose. I had a nice dinner and I was even able to finish the two page spread from Monsters Unleashed. Tired, I fell asleep right away as soon as I got in bed. I woke up the next morning in the same position I was when I fell asleep. It was already light outside. I must have been really tired the previous night because I usually wake up while its still dark. Immediately I knew something was wrong. Without even opening my eyes or moving my head, I knew that I was terribly, terribly dizzy, and nauseous. I tried calling to Ilyn but my words were coming out slurred. I was trying to tell her that I was really dizzy and that she ought to probably take my blood pressure. Thank goodness we have this sphygmomanometer at home and that Ilyn is an expert at using it. Much to our shock, my BP was up to 190 over 110. She immediately gave me Catapress under the tongue to bring it down. But after a while my BP wasn't going down. I held Ilyn's hand and told her I was scared. I was never more scared in all the time I was sick than during that moment. I could get a stroke. I could die. It was a real possibility. And I thought it was those damned drugs that I took the previous night. They were just too strong for me. We texted our doctors and they confirmed that we should stop taking the drugs. I didn't need their confirmation anyway because I had no intention of drinking any more of those.

By lunchtime things hadn't changed. I felt bad because my dad was celebrating his wedding anniversary (mom passed away two years ago) and wanted a nice lunch of chicken and pancit malabon. I just couldn't eat anything. I stayed in my room and tried to eat, but I just couldn't retain anything. I just slept.

Later in the day I felt kind of better. I was less dizzy and my BP had improved. I knew the worst had passed as those damned drugs were slowly getting cleaned from my system. It would take another day for me to be completely free of the effects. By then we decided that we would just treat my shingles with a cream applied on the rashes themselves rather than take anything orally. I never want a repeat of that day again.

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