The college whopper: bet you didn't see this one coming
Posted Tuesday, October 31, 2006 @ 08:06 PM
For the past month or so I have been trying to shake a sore throat, which first appeared during a weekend of yuck. At the end of September, I caught the crud that had been going around campus for a while, and was in bed for two or three days, getting up only to check email and make more hot tea. I consumed nearly half of the tea I'd brought with me to school (at a rate of two or three pots a day), which, if you know anything about my tea collection, is no small feat. If I find an excuse to stay in my pajamas for a few days drinking tea, reading, and sleeping to my heart's content (all without feeling too bad), I usually don't complain. I didn't think anything of it.
I've not been sick very much in the last few years, but when I do get sick, sometimes one infection leads to another and another. As my mother said to me today during one of nearly two hours of conversations we had, my health is sort of like a house of cards—either everything is holding up remarkably well, sturdy for someone with such a fragile structure, or a few cards fall and the whole house crumbles.
Even though I hate talking about it, my mother and I bond, in a way, over my health, usually as it deteriorates. As a fourth and fifth grader I suffered from a mysterious chronic illness which was diagnosed as everything from IBS to hypochondria, with a range of symptoms that included vertigo, hot flashes, severe headaches, fatigue, and chronic stomach pain. With my ability to attend school obliterated, Mom and I spent most days in specialists' offices and hospital waiting rooms, or else we stayed home doing what we could to make me feel better. Gastroenterologists, psychologists, pediatricians, ENTs, x-rays, endoscopies, stomach ulcers, terrible drug side-effects, special mail-order fiber juices, vitamins, milk and yeast and sugar-free diets, bed rest, acupressure bracelets, preservative-free foods—we tried them all.
After two years of mostly home-schooling and my fluctuating health, Mom felt like the real doctor, trying to piece things together as much or more than any of the specialists we visited. As the illness dragged itself out and no conclusions were reached, less and less people thought anything of it, as I had ceased most regular activity and spent nearly all my time in the house. What's that expression? "If you're gone one week, people will notice, two, and they'll miss you, three, and they'll learn to live without you." Finally, after a CAT scan, we discovered I had a severe sinus infection. A week later I had surgery, and gradually made a full recovery.
I blame the whole experience for my current attitude toward medication and my own health—a process which begins by denying I have symptoms, and then, when something even remotely serious develops, freaking out and thinking I'll never feel well again and be on medication forever. If an illness lasts longer than a few days, I get bored and restless with the "vacation" time, and quickly become despondent or depressed.
Anyway, after the initial weekend of yuck, I developed a secondary infection, and after a month and two rounds of antibiotics, I still haven't beaten the sore throat. Rather than drive to see my doctor in Birmingham, I got up early this morning to brave the Student Health Center, which has a reputation on campus for long waits and terrible help. Having already suffered through a purgatory of waiting rooms and flaky doctors, I didn't look forward to visiting the building which I have heard called "The Student Death Center" by people around campus. However, I found motivation, as usual, in procrastination: I'd not yet finished As I Lay Dying for this morning's English discussion, and could skip class legitimately without worrying about getting the reading done on time. To the Death Center!
I filled out the necessary forms and followed a nurse to one of the exam rooms. After asking the usual nurse questions, she left me with Faulkner and a giant mural of one football player slaughtering another by tackle, painted by someone, I'm sure, who took it very seriously. I wish now that I'd taken a picture. It's not the first mural of its kind that I've seen on campus; once Mom and Erin came to visit, took me out for Thai, and we spotted Bear Bryant and a star player painted into a Renaissance-style scene across the ceiling.
My doctor eventually came in and introduced herself as Irma. She speaks with an accent, and she wears expensive perfume, pink heels, and incredible make-up that shimmers along her lower eyelids. I explained the dilemma and she sent me back to the lab for blood work after a negative Strep test.
I don't know why, but I feel like a part of me should think it's a terrible idea to confess this to the internet. Perhaps it's the way she told me the results of the blood test—like I have done something horribly disgusting and awful. She said it with an implied "shame on you," the way I'd imagine a doctor might address a patient with pica syndrome: "Well, you know, the pain you're experiencing in your stomach is probably from all those rusty nails and rocks you've been eating out of the back yard." But, dear internet, it's a good story, even if Irma thinks I should be ashamed. That's right. I've got the college whopper. Irma says to me, totally serious, and with her immaculately powdered nose a little too high in the air, "What you have, they call this the kissing disease. You have disease because you have been kissing someone." I said nothing, but looked behind her at the football mural and tried to appear shocked, like I've never heard of mono and the dangers of contagious diseases.
Irma saw me off with a prescription and an excuse for English class. I'm not supposed to exercise, and I'm to keep an eye on my health until at least December in case something new develops; as it stands I may already have tonsillitis in addition to mono, but we shall see. I suppose if I'm going to have mono, I might as well reap the benefits of doctor-ordered laziness and multiple opportunities to describe the danger kissing has exposed to my spleen. The fact that I've caught anything that allows me to say "spleen" seriously and repeatedly for any reason is pretty awesome. SPLEEN.
So. A broken down car on the first night of college? Check. Keys locked in car late at night? Check. Mono within the first three months of attending school? Check. Anything else you know of that I should look out for? It might be coming my way.
Expect frequent and exaggerated reports about the condition of my spleen.
That is all.
boys are bad.
good luck for the next month or so.
01 Nov 2006, 12:29 AM.
Damn, that sucks. The risk of Mono does run pretty high in the dorms, though. I hope you pull through it as best as possible.
01 Nov 2006, 1:11 AM.
Awww, that sucks, Glynnis! Man, everything really has been happening to you. Thanks for sharing your story... I hope you don't feel too bad. :-p
01 Nov 2006, 1:13 AM.
What about the dreaded "Freshmen Fifteen", the fifteen pound most people supposedly gain their freshmen year? From the your self-portraits on Flickr one would surmise that you are predisposed to being skinny, but I suppose it's still possible.
01 Nov 2006, 8:33 AM.
Yeah, the funny thing is that with the incubation period for mono, I would have had to catch it in the first two or three weeks of being here, before there were any boys around to kiss. I suspect foul play at the cafeteria. But nevertheless, I'll give you that much—boys can be bad.
As far as the Freshman Fifteen, I suppose I had it, only mine was reversed. I lost almost fifteen pounds when I got here, I think from stress and the change in diet. Not having a constant stash of ice cream and other fatty, delicious delicacies in my freezer has been quite the tragedy. Every now and then I treat myself to some Cherry Garcia, but there's nothing like a parent's grocery budget to keep the weight on.
01 Nov 2006, 9:56 AM.
I'm surprised, *knock on wood*, that I haven't caught it yet. My friend had it bad and I hung around with him a lot when he had it cause I didn't know. When I went to my health center they told me I was perfectly healthy, even though I didn't feel like it. My actual doctor told me I was fine. College is just meant to play with our minds. ;]
And SPLEEN!
01 Nov 2006, 10:19 AM.
Don't feel too bad--one of my roommates caught Mono within three weeks of being here.
I'm sick today, myself. I think it's a sinus infection, but also a great reason to not go to class or put on pants.
01 Nov 2006, 11:39 AM.
Haha. I miss you, Mark! Thanksgiving is going to be one huge party of people I've missed.
From now on, rather than "an excuse to stay in my pajamas," I will say "an excuse not to put on pants." Somehow I think that wording works a lot better for you than it does for me, but regardless, it made me giggle.
01 Nov 2006, 11:41 AM.
Forgive the double commenting, but I winced when I read my earlier comment due to the two errors. What I obviously meant to say was "fifteen pounds" not "fifteen pound" and "From your self-portraits..." not "From the your self-portraits...". The former sounds as if I am referring to British currency and the latter sounds as if English is my second language.
This is what I get for commenting before I am fully awake.
01 Nov 2006, 12:28 PM.
So, here is my petite student health center story: in the ASC health center is a pamphlet picturing a pyramid of casually dressed young smiling twenty-somethings, all grinning as though having the time of their lives. The text at the top reads "College is fun..." and continues on the bottom "UNTIL YOU GET MENINGITIS!"
02 Nov 2006, 12:37 AM.
1) I didn't know you were ever home-schooled. What curriculum did you use? (Oh and I didn't apply to ASFA this year. I'm going to continue home-schooling.)
2) I got mono when I was in 5th grade, but I never kissed anyone (I promise!). You can get it in all sorts of different ways.
3) You lost 15 pounds? That simply isn't fair. :o
02 Nov 2006, 4:31 PM.
Aw, that sucks. I got mono my freshman year of high school and the only person I'd been kissing was a certain C. Mitchell (ack!). I was actually pretty irritated that he never got mono.
Anyway, this will cheer you up unless you've already seen (via Alec Soth, etc) but I'm just tickled pink about William Lamson's "Me in America" series of photographs. It could be because I'm unbearably homesick, but whatever. http://www.williamlamson.com/
06 Nov 2006, 7:57 AM.
I think you should get yourself back to Germany and have one of those giant mugs of beer. Always good for what ails ya.
06 Nov 2006, 12:07 PM.
Where am I?
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