|After getting fluids and on my way out|
I don't get sick very often, but when I do, I get really sick, to paraphrase the beer commercial. Normally I get one minor cold a year, but every now and then something really sneaks up and kicks my butt.
The beginning of 2015 started out with a bang, when I was at work and just started to feel "off". As the day wore on, I started to feel progressively worse. My stomach seemed to be in knots and just "sour" feeling. Also, I was starting to get that feverish feeling. Just shy of 3pm, I let my boss know I was taking off and somehow managed to get myself home.
Upon arriving, I threw off my shoes, tossed them in a corner, and hustled as best as I could upstairs to the spare bedroom. I dove under the covers and just started shivering. I hadn't even bothered to get undressed. I had beat Shari home, but when she did get home, she managed to get me all the trappings one needs to fight a flu: a thermometer, Tylenol and a Ginger Ale.
I hadn't drank much that day and I tried to get down some of the ale, but it was a major effort and I just wanted to be warm and not leave the comfort of the bed. My temperature was just hovering over 99, so nothing too serious. I turned on the TV and tried to sleep a but part of me wanted to stay awake. It was too early to sleep and I didn't want to be up at midnight bug-eyed.
Things Got Worse
Around 6pm, I got up to the use the toilet. I hadn't been going to the bathroom much, but I had acquiesced and decided I'd just go to sleep so best to take care of business. I retook my temperature and it had skyrocketed to 101.3, still not insanely bad, but I was clearly going in the wrong direction.
I waddled into the neighboring bathroom and barely went before I started to feel really off. I tried to wash my hands, when the room started to fade out. I yelled out to Shari that I needed help and according to her, I was yelling "I am dying, I am dying".
I made it about three quarters of the way back into the bedroom before blacking out and bending the crap out of my new glasses. I laid sprawled half way in the bedroom and hall.
I came back to in about 5 - 10 minutes. I was drenched in sweat, all the way through my tech running shirt and sweatshirt. They were literally soaken wet. I had no idea where I was or why I was laying on the floor. Shari was on the phone with 911 people and they were sending out paramedics.
I've had an episode like this before. Early in the 2000's I had a bad flu and I had gone to the bathroom, only to collapse on the bathroom floor. I suspected this was the same deal.
I was really woozy and fairly incoherent. As I lay there panting and trying to get my faculties about me, I realized I had to go to the bathroom extremely bad. I did manage to hold it back. Just as the paramedics were arriving, I summoned the energy to go to the bathroom. It seemed like my stomach had opened up its contents but I felt a bit better.
By the time I got out the paramedics were there and I started to feel hazy again, despite just simply sitting on the edge of the bed. I had to lay down for a while as I started to feel like I was blacking out. They did the usual tests: heart, glucose (normal), temperature (back down to 99), etc Shari and her mom were insistent I go to the ER as were the paramedics. I didn't really think I needed to go, but I was clearly outnumbered. And the last thing I wanted to live with was if things got worse and I hadn't gone to the hospital, I would've NEVER heard the end of it.
I live really close to the hospital -- about 5 minutes away and I vaguely remember the ambulance ride there. I do remember joking with the paramedics that I was an Emergency Fan and when they started an IV I mentioned that it should be TKO. They had a good laugh over that one as I had gotten it right.
The paramedics were pretty secretive about my heart condition as I was worried that wow, I might have a heart defect and I'd never be able to run again. However, I think they were concerned with my blood pressure. I am usually about 110 / 70 but I was 95 / 55, which is fairly low. I think I got as high as 112 over 72. Shari kept telling them that I was a marathon runner and it was impossible for me to have a heart condition (being a runner doesn't guarantee you anything).
They did have to shave my chest a bit to get some electrodes on me. For those that know me personally, I am on par with Chewbacca as far as body hair goes. In fact, the worst part about the whole experience was pulling the darn things off.
I don't really remember being gurneyed into my room but they gave me some anti-nausea medicine, did more heart tests and the usual battery of stroke tests. I took a urine culture as well but that turned up negative. Also they wired me up with not one, but two IVs.
One of the worst fears as I had, as I sat there watching the Oregon / Ohio State game was my upcoming marathon plans and whether I'd even be able to run again (if I had a heart defect) Luckily, no issues there.
From start to finish I was at the hospital for about 3 - 4 hours. I am fortunate that Utah / Salt Lake has a very good medical system. The university is a medical school and they supply the area with a good group of doctors (I couldn't believe how young my doctor was). I think I just needed to be stabilized and given fluids. I left the hospital just shy of 11 under my own power.
I slept pretty well last night at home other than having a serious case of Montezuma's Revenge, I am feeling pretty good. I am just trying to keep up with my fluids and take it easy.
There is a weird stomach flu going around and with all the running I had done the previous week, it is probable that I might've weakened my immune system. Also, I could've picked up a germ this week from all the dirty air.
I'll be fine though and I am already on the mend and hope to get back to running / training soon. I don't think I have a temperature today, but I need to be close to a bathroom at all times. I am told this virus could last a week or two -- which I hope it doesn't. Either way, time to take it easy.