viral meningitis

I believe I will write a blog post today, the day after a pretty wonderful thanksgiving break with my parents. I haven't felt like writing blog posts lately, but I have this great music playing in my head (via headphones; not crazy yet) and I'm feeling ... thankful.

I was sick about two months ago. I don't think I knew how sick, until recently. My parents talk about it like I was a ghost. One day, I think Sept. 21 or so, at this very computer, my head started to hurt. It got worse and worse, and I thought it was a migraine, something I hadn't had since high school. So I went home, got in bed, and just lay there for a while. For days. My friend J. and my roommate CS would bring me water and orange juice and I would periodically get up and vomit. Finally, my dad came to Corvallis and he put me in a car and I complained the whole way home. He'd bought about 15 different drinks because I was dehydrated; instead of getting anything normal, though, he'd bought Muscle Milk and similarly un-drinkable solutions. So I'd take a sip of a drink and tell him it was disgusting and then try another. By the end, he had nothing to drink and he said he'd have to burn the bottles because I had infected them all.

I couldn't eat or drink, because of vomiting, but mostly I had this headache, a constant, acute pain in the front of my head. My neck hurt and I couldn't bend my head forward, and I had to be in the dark, wrapped in a blanket, fetal position on the couch. I slept 16 hours a day, and when I didn't sleep, I sat in front of the fire or maybe, if I was feeling good, outside in the sun for a few minutes. I couldn't read, couldn't play boardgames, couldn't go for walks. The parents took me to a park one day because they thought I'd benefit from the sunshine and the walk, and I just shuffled behind them, saying I wanted to go home. They were dispirited, I'm sure, because usually I like to do things and I didn't want to do a damn thing.

Finally, they took me to a doctor who said she thought I had viral meningitis and my mom took me to the emergency room, where a doctor did a spinal tap (or "lumbar puncture") and a nurse gave me morphine. The morphine made me feel human, almost. The results came back at some point and the doctor said, yes, you have viral meningitis and you should stay in the hospital. I stayed there for four days, watching horrible TV and getting periodic morphine and hooked up to an IV. It was disgusting and dehumanizing. I was a parasite, completely helpless, without charm or grace. My smiles were fake, though I tried to smile because I was a complete dependent. The nurses were wonderful and they would come in and talk to my parents, who were often visiting, and they would talk to me and then, finally, they told me I could leave.

I went home, first to my parents', then to Corvallis, where I started to get a sense of myself back. My brain stopped hurting so much, though I continued to take naps for a few weeks and feel some of the same disorientation that had overwhelmed me during the illness. Physically, I started to get some strength back. I could play soccer, though I was much slower and felt almost wooden.

Now I look back on it and it's so unreal to me, that whole time. While I was sick, I kept just thinking, tomorrow I'll feel better and I'll get up and go for a run. Or I'll eat something, or I'll read a book. But then tomorrow came and my head was still just a bright sphere of pain on top of my body, and my back hurt and my neck couldn't move.

Thankfully, I didn't become addicted to painkillers (the pills make me puke), though I would happily take some more morphine. I didn't have any lasting brain damage, so far as I can tell. And life goes on. I would be such a helpless really-ill person.

I'm so thankful. Maybe my parents will see this post someday. We spent thanksgiving with my funny family and we ate a bunch and played foosball, then we watched some TV, cheering inexplicably for Texas A&M against Texas. Dad and I went running the next day, talking as we always do about 1) politics, 2) movies, 3) books. Mom and dad and my friend S. and I went wine-tasting, then we drank a lot of nice tequila and whiskey, then the next day mom and dad and I went cross-country skiing on Mt. Hood and laughed at Marvin, who was running so fast through the snow, just a black blur.

So I'm really thankful.