gone viral

I’ve had a sore throat for 5 days. I thought it was caused by whatever the precursor to Korean Fan Death is, but when it didn’t let up I booked an appointment with a clinic. I was mostly in “wait and see” mode, but the online doctor requested I go see someone in meat space because she interpreted my blood results as my body trying to fight something off that likely wasn’t related to my slacker heart. Tired of not being able to swallow without making faces, I caved and booked myself in for a prodding.

The appointment was an epic shit show from the beginning. I hate walk-in clinics, but they’re my only real option in cases like this (even though we all know how well that worked out for me when I was trying to diagnose why I couldn’t breathe). Luckily, the clinic I use has an online appointment system so you can skip the wait. I booked myself an appointment last night, but when I arrived, I was told the doctor I was supposed to see wasn’t even in today, and there was an hour wait to see anyone. I was pretty furious at this, because I didn’t exactly want to sit in a crowded waiting room full of sick people – it’s why I used the goddamn booking system in the first place – but I didn’t have much of a choice: my sore throat had progressed in alarming and disgusting ways. I sighed, and took a seat to begin my wait.

.. and that was when an elderly Japanese lady asked me when my baby was due.

I stammered that I wasn’t pregnant, and I know the lady felt pretty terrible about asking me, but it still took all my willpower not to cry in the waiting room. The tears welled up several times, but I held fast onto my towering anger at being in this situation at all to keep them at bay. Finally, my name was called, and I was whisked away to see a doctor for a total of 96 seconds.

She looked at my throat and took my temperature, and came up with a verdict of virus. It’s not the Return of Strep, which is good – I was more than a little terrified that the cycle of slowly dying aloud was going to start all over again – but other than that, everything sucks. There are no drugs they can give me for this. I’m just supposed to wait it out, but in the meantime, I’m in pain and am sad down to my very bones. We’re supposed to be leaving for Seattle in an hour or so, but I don’t know that I should go – technically I’m contagious AND have a weakened immune system, both of which point to a sequestering. I could get other people sick. Other people could make me sicker. But .. I’ll miss Ali’s birthday and partying with people and having fun. I don’t know what I should do.

I’ve never before been asked if I was pregnant, and MAN does that sting. I made it home before collapsing in a puddle of tears, and now I am literally sobbing into some cheesecake. It is perhaps a little clichéd and counter-productive, but if there was ever a time that called for cheesecake, this is it. I am a sad, sad Kimli.

logic vs. webmd

For the last ten days or so, I have been Experiencing Symptoms:

  • Droopingly tired throughout the day
  • Peeing ALL THE TIME
  • Sore boobs
  • Constantly, ravenously hungry

.. you probably know exactly where this is going, and you wouldn’t be alone: every single website on the entire internet thinks I am pregnant. Google says I’m pregnant. Facebook says I’m pregnant. WebMD says I’m pregnant and also cancer. Wikipedia said I was pregnant, but the article was deleted because [citation needed]. The point is, every time I get curious about my symptoms, everything says there’s but one reason for it all: totes knocked up.

Doubt is an insidious thing. Even though I know in every fibre of my tired, hungry, sore-boob’d, hafta-pee self that I am NOT pregnant and can’t possibly be knocked up because SCIENCE, I was still tempted to seek out a stick to pee on just in case. I had myself almost convince that the whole of the internet was right and I was mere minutes away from learning first hand how babby was formed when one sprang out from betwixt my nethers. I was dealing with the near panic attack that followed these thoughts when I caught myself being an idiot, and stopped. I took some deep breaths, and used some good old fashioned common sense to look at each symptom rationally .. and I found that every one could easily be explained away without any kind of embryonic sacs whatsoever.

  • I’m frequently exhausted because I stay up too late every night
  • I pee all the damn time because I drink Diet Coke and water non-stop
  • My boobs are sore because it’s fucking cold at home and in the office so my nipples are at DEFCON 3
  • Skipping lunch at work means I’m faint with starving when I get home

See? All perfectly logical reasons for all my symptoms, with nary a fertilized egg in sight. Still, I might be a *little* worried. I just need to keep repeating logic to myself, and maybe go to bed at a reasonable hour for once. Nice try, internet. Team No Babies 4 lyfe.

apropos of nothing, but look! pretty lights!