I'm feeling MUCH better now!

As I watched my house grow smaller through the ambulance's rear window, the EMT asked if I had a family history of heart disease.

"No," I answered automatically.  Then, "Oh, wait."

I began thinking aloud, "My Dad had a stent put in last year Thanksgiving.  Mom died earlier this year of several things including congestive heart disease.  A couple years ago, I had an ultrasound done on my own heart and they'd found a little something, I don't remember what it was called..."
"Heart murmur?"
"No.  That's what my sister has, though.  Wow.  I guess I do have a family history of heart disease."

***

Apparently, friends, when you have an allergy to a medication, bad things happen.  And when you don't know you are allergic to a particular medication, sometimes you end up taking it for several days before symptoms show.

In my case, I'd taken six days worth.

Oh, sure.  One might argue my symptoms showed on the evening of day four when I came home from work with the chills.  But, I thought it was because the ventilation system at work had be blowing cold air into the studio all day.
One might further argue that vomiting on day five might have been an obvious symptom.  But, considering the company smorgasbord was the same day...
::shrug::
One might even argue that, on day six, a rapid heartbeat which frightens a woman so much so that she calls 911 and hauls a team of paramedics to her house might be a symptom of an allergy.  But, no.  ER doctors determined my very concerning heartbeat (which, on a healthy person should be between 50-80 beats per minute, was at 120) was caused by dehydration.  They juiced me up good via IV and sent me home.  Hope you feel better.

Stop there.
By the time of the hospital visit, The Husband and I had begun to eyeball the new medication I had been taking.  It was obviously making me nauseous.  The information sheet said to drink lots of water to flush the stuff through my kidneys.  But I couldn't keep water down.  Not even a couple swallows.
So, yes, I was dehydrated.

Several times during that ER visit, we asked if this medication might be the problem.
No.  It's not.
Are you sure?
Very sure.
This medication.  This one, right here.
No.  It's not.

Granted, we never told him I'd never taken this drug before.
Granted, we asked about the side effects and did not think to ask if I was having an allergic reaction.

Okay, back to the story.
The next morning, I was moaning in bed (the same as I'd been doing since yakking up Tuesday's lunch) waiting for a call from my own doctor, and I noticed little pink dots on my arms.
"Ah-Ha!" I shouted.
The Husband took a look.  "Yup, that's a rash."

When my doctor saw it a few hours later, he recognized it right away as a medication allergy.  He wondered aloud why the ER doc hadn't caught it.
"Well. There was no rash yesterday," we pointed out.
"Still, it's pretty obvious."

Oh, yes. We're pretty po'd about it.
We mention that damned drug SO many times.

Now, remember, we never suggested the chance of an allergy, but damn it, shouldn't a doctor GO there?
Did I tell you the ER genius gave me some anti-nausea pills so I could continue to choke down more of the damned things?

It's like being at a murder scene where detectives are looking for possible clues.  You point to into the corner and say, "Excuse me, detective.  Could this bloody knife be important?" 
"No, we're looking for a shooting suspect."
"But, it's got blood on it."
"None of the neighbors indicate hearing a stabbing."
"This knife.  Right here.  It's got blood on it."
"Here's a glass of water.  Now, go home."

Grrr.

***

I'm feeling very itching today.
The meds to fix the damn meds haven't fully kicked in yet.
But, I'm feeling much better.

Carry on...