It's a urinary tract infection.
Or, to quote my nurse (whom I love so much I might make her a godparent), it's a "really nasty, really major urinary tract infection."
So nasty, I'm lucky I wasn't pissing blood all weekend.
So nasty, I have to go on antibiotics, which raises the alarm for two reasons. 1) I'm pregnant, and therefore trying to remain in a drug-free state of Zen-like purity lest I poison my fetus* with one too many Tylenol geltabs, and 2) I am allergic to just about every antibiotic known to man.
*Yes, it's true. I am harboring a full-on fetus now and am feeling all nostalgic for the sweet embryonic days. They grow up so fast.
The rest of the phone call with my nurse was a frustrating back-and-forth about the loooong list of antibiotics I cannot tolerate and cannot spell (I have them written phonetically in my wallet in case I get in a car accident and the EMTs want to give me "ah-rith-ra-my-a-sin" or "see-clore" or "a-mox-a-sill-an.") The only ones I know how to spell are "Cipro" (due to the anthrax scare of 2001...it's still in my wallet as "sip-row") and "Tetracycline". (No idea where I learned to spell that one. Am gifted.)
After a second consult with the doctor and my pharmacist, they've decided to let me try one that I don't think I've ever taken and they don't think will kill me. I'm to take one dose tonight and then obsessively watch for any hives or swelling. Which could be a problem, as I can break out in hives just by thinking about breaking out in hives.
(I'm not going to name the drug I'll be on because I'd like to spare myself the agony of reading comments about somebody's friend's mom who went on said drug and totally died or lost her hair or gave birth to a two-headed baby and why are you taking antibiotics at all? Don't you know that some cranberry juice and voodoo talismans will cure a UTI? Do you really care about not peeing fire more than your unborn child? You dont deserv to be pregnate!!!1)
(Can you tell I've gotten slightly defensive regarding my comments section? Most of y'all are lovely and funny and such, but the assvice people make me cranky. Cranky and tired.)
Which is pretty much what I told the nurse when she asked how I was feeling today. Tired, so tired, so very very tired. I certainly don't feel like I have a raging-wildly-out-of-control UTI, but hell, I've been peeing every 15 minutes since January so how would I even notice?
I did notice this weekend (on bedrest) (for spotting) (pee-related spotting) that I'm unable to go more than five hours without falling asleep. Part of this could be because I spent the weekend watching the following things on TV:
* A show about a $2 million recreational vehicle, complete with a custom-made, one-of-a-kind tree-shaped table made of plexiglass and illuminated with blinking rainbow-colored LCD lights. Classsssy!
* Hour after hour of the World Poker Tour.
* In the Womb on the National Geographic Channel (which I did not realize we even received), that while extremely informative, went so heavy on the water/womb symbolism and the watery/womby sound effects that it's impossible to watch for more than 10 minutes before you succumb to the urge to curl up in the fetal position and sleep for nine months.
* 300,000 instances of that weirdly surreal Burger King ad with Hootie dressed as a cowboy that absolutely destroys everything I held dear back in 10th grade. And that damn jingle has infiltrated my brain in a way no song since Elton John's Tiny Dancer has infiltrated my brain.
Amy: *in shower* Tendercrisp bacon cheddar raa-aanch.
Amy: *in car* something something lotto tickets pay, there's a king who wants you to have it your way...
Amy: *at work* Tendercrispbaconcheddarraaa-aanch.
Amy: *peeing for 700th time* Hold me closer, tiny raaa-aaancher...
Yes, I'm going to pick up my antibiotics now.