My diagnosis is in . . . and the whole office goes out to lunch so I have to kill time until 1:15. Seems they want me to come in TODAY, so it can't be good news. And they called promptly . . . I just missed the call because my phone fell, battery sliding underneath the couch, and in my coma-like lethargy I forgot that you can't just put the battery back in . . . you have to then turn on the phone. So until 1:15 . . . I wait. And clean. I'm constantly wiping with Clorox wipes.
I finally got around to reading the pamphlets that accompanies the drugs I am taking. The oral antibiotic I'm taking (and have been taking for a week now) clears up anthrax. It also eats your tendons? Great. But the plague I have is not clearing up.
So . . . no going outside, to avoid bug bites (I think the two current are former mosquito bites) . . . no touching anyone (which has been a bummer) . . . no eating yogurt (messes with the Cipro I'm taking) . . . no scratching or picking at anything (which means zits . . . I don't want this on my face . . . it's bad enough on my legs) . . . and I need new band-aids (I'm fresh out and actually all the ripping three times a day and sometimes more is causing me to bleed)
Okay, it's 1:14. Time to call. Wish me luck!
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