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The Travails of CCP

June 24th, 2006 (01:10 am)
tired

current mood: but not sleepy

So I unwittingly set myself up for a Hell Week of sorts. I scheduled an immersion class in business ethics to coincide with the next to last week of my summer statistics class. The immersion class meets for two consecutive weekends and the intervening Wednesday, 9 to 5 on all five days. My stats class meets on Tuesdays and Thursdays and can go as late as 9:45 PM. And it often does, due to the overwhelming doltishness of my classmates. And, of course, I work full-time for The Man.

The first weekend of class was good. My professor is a charming, albeit Republican, retired attorney. He's fond of muttering to himself in German during his lectures and telling us bizarre personal facts. But he's also mildly insane, since he has assigned 6 short papers to be written in the course of a week, along with two in-class exams, and a partridge in a pear tree. I somehow managed to meet all the deadlines for the first half of the class. On Wednesday, I was sitting in class, trying to figure out how I was going to meet the second batch of deadlines, when I started to feel...itchy.

I didn't really think anything of it, and I went home. After dinner, though, I kept asking Todd if I was turning red because I felt so hot. And then I was itchy some more. And then I realized I was breaking out into hives all over my body. I asked Todd to go to the store and buy me some Benadryl, but it didn't really work very well. I went to bed, and the next morning, the hives were still there in full force. So I called off work (and, by the way, I had this really Spartan opinion that I should try not to take any time off work during this whole Hell Week, beyond what was necessary for physically attending the class [i.e., the one Wednesday]) and called my doctor's office. Of course, my doctor was off having a baby, so I asked for Todd's doctor, who was all booked up. They promised to call me back with a time when he could squeeze me in. In the interim, my eyelids started to swell up, which, let me tell you, is just plain freaky.

So the doctor was able to take me yesterday afternoon. He basically came in, looked at my eyelids and other spots, said I was going to get a shot (of what? I don't know) and that I would get some pills (of what? I only found out when I picked them up at a pharmacy). The whole episode could be stress-induced (stop that, body!) or an allergic reaction to a medication I recently started. So I remained swollen-feeling for the rest of the day and sill had to go to statistics because it was the last class before the exam. And today I stayed home again and started prednisone, which has to be the most unfun drug I've ever taken. I can't sleep, my legs hurt, and it's almost 2 AM. And I have to get up in 4.5 to 5 hours to go to my class. Two days in a row. And then work and on and on...

Sigh.

Comments

Posted by: When am I not myself? (dac)
Posted at: June 24th, 2006 06:18 pm (UTC)

my encounter with the big P didn't seem so bad. I think I had the anxiety before. I don't remember being affected in a bad way.

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