Allergy Head at 4 am

I've been wracking my brain to come up with a little blurb for the blog, but my own personal allergy cocktail has put me into fuzzy cotton lala land and I believe my heart is beating exceptionally fast due to my pharmaceutical/apothecary skills.

Brain: When did you take the last Claritin?

Brain: It seems Zyrtec has different ingredients - can you overlap them?

Brain: The Benadryl only sort of worked - what about Sudafed?

Brain: This Afrin Nasal Spray is AWESOME, but is says only every 10-12 hours. How much leeway do you think there is with those guidelines? *snorrrrrrt*

My other problem with adult-onset allergies ( I only developed all these issues as of last year) is that the when they hit me, allergies are the LAST thing that I think of as the source of the problem.

Brain: Oh lordy day, I feel like shit and my head is going to explode. I must be getting the flu. Or a head cold. Or malaria.

And then someone will suggest allergies and I have to think, "Oh yeah, I sort of get that stuff too now. Thanks for reminding me about that option before I make the mental leap to cancer."

Malaria continues to stay in the brain catalog from the Peace Corps days where contracting it was entirely possible. And to completely freak everyone out - if you thought you had it, you were supposed to prepare a slide (for a microscope) with a blood sample. Because what you totally feel like doing when you're fluctuating between fever and chills is prepare a blood smear and carefully carry it to a doctor who could be 1 to 10 hours away. I never got malaria, but I did get all other forms of the creeping crud from nasty, giant boils that I'd have to lance and drain myself to Mango Fever.

I was just the teensiest bit fond of the mango and ate them A LOT. I guess the time I ate 10 of the smaller mangoes in one sitting was about 7 mangoes too many and I gave myself ulcers in my throat from the acid. The ulcers got infected and I ended up in the Mombasa Hospital for the second time with a massive fever. But it wasn't too much of a hardship since my room was air-conditioned, looked out over the Indian Ocean and cute Greg from the south coast stopped by to bring me flowers. Hubba hubba.

In terms of other Peace Corps health maintenance, we were periodically required to submit a MIF kit. This was a teensy jar of liquid that you put your poop into so they could check for cooties. I was often tempted to put a goat dropping in one and see what came back.

Going for my mid-term physical in Nairobi, I was required to submit a MIF kit, and for the first time since landing in Africa, I couldn't take a dump. WTF!? My steady diet of beans for lunch had me as regular as the day is long and now I can't produce?! The gastro-intestinal track decided to unblock itself on the train from Mombasa to Nairobi. Now picture me in a train bathroom, squatting (no toilet...hole in the floor), trying to capture a piece of my own poo with the train rocking back and forth. Yowza! I'm sorry, but handling my own fecal matter just ranks really low on the old fun-o-meter. Handling it while squatting and keeping my balance was downright comical. And not only do you have to capture some, but you've got to get a small enough piece for the MIF kit. *shudder*

I guess my only other major health issue over there was this super-subdermal staph infection in my calf. As it seems is always the case, the doc said he'd need to lance it.

Me: Sooo...are you going to numb me up?

Doc: I'll put some freeze-y stuff on it first.

Me: *urgh* ARRRRRGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

There ain't enough freeze-y stuff for a lance that's going an inch into your leg meat. And then he has the gall to pack gauze into the cut to "wick out the pus". I went around with something that looked like a maxi pad taped to my leg for three days after that.

OK...I'm rambling...and better head back to bed since it's 4:30ish in the morning and my new allergy cocktail is doing something.
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