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Sandhill crane

Saturday, April 4, 2020

Continuing medical adventures

I have a cold. Not terrible, just sniffles, runny nose, congestion. Your basic cold. And I've never been so glad to have one.

You see a week ago I traveled down to Hillcrest to get my immunotherapy treatment and they wouldn't give it to me. It turns out that I had an infection of some kind. I was told that the infection would render the cancer fighting BCG's benefits moot. I was prescribed a new antibiotic for the week, very strong.

I had forgotten to tell them that a week prior I had experienced a bad fever the night of my treatment, 100.7 degrees, nausea and vomiting. It was a not so good couple of days. I finally confessed.

So I get down there yesterday and give them a piss sample and it checks out this time but the nurse decides to take my temperature again and lo and behold, I was still running a fever. I honestly had no clue. Only 99.9 degrees but I had just told her how great I felt and she eyed me suspiciously and said, "Wait here."

Now let me set the scene a little bit. I am naked from the waist down, laying on an operating table, looking at a florescent light on the ceiling and the geometry of the plastic baffle in front of it. They are about to take a large syringe, stick it in the end of my penis and insert a passel of lydocaine gel. They then attach a clamp to your crank. After a period of time the doctor comes in and takes a large greased tube, slides it through your dick, past your prostate, about two feet in to your bladder, which is not exactly comfortable or a walk in the park and finally injects the inoculated tuberculin vaccine, which is supposed to save my bladder and life. You then find a place to roll over in every direction for an hour, to coat your bladder surface, unless of course you forget to do it like I did yesterday because there is no place to go and you have to wing it.

But I am getting ahead of my story. I am sitting there staring at the ceiling and I am thinking, "Oh fuck, I'm asymptomatic, low grade fever, what was that tickle in my throat, they are going to tell me that I have covid - 19. Who have I infected? Oh, jesus, what about the used mask I gave away to the Mexican guy in front of Thai Thai? Did I just sentence that poor bastard to death? Maybe Leslie is asymptomatic too. Did I get her sick? She's strong as a horse..."

For what seemed like an eternity I lay there. Thinking this is how the downhill slide starts. My mind was racing with worst case scenarios. Then the doctor and nurse came in. Poof! None of that. Obviously the full dose of treatment was too strong, I was reacting to it two weeks ago and I got sick. They cut the dose to twenty percent yesterday. Talk about relief.

So now I have a cold. But it won't kill me. Hoorah!

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