However, Monday afternoon, my eyes started to swell. It was slow, starting on Sunday actually, but the rate of swelling increased significantly that evening, so that despite a night spent regularly applying cold compresses, by dawn yesterday one eye was virtually shut, and the other was not far behind. My whole face burned and itched at the same time, and the swelling was starting to push tissues into my nostrils so I was aware of my breathing. I won't say that I actually experienced troubles breathing, but in good hypochondriac fashion, I imagined a horrific death of allergy-imposed self-asphyxiation by tissue swelling.
To break the suspense, I'll tell you now that I'm fine. A trip to Urgent Care, and two daily doses of prednisone, and I'm almost back to normal, but for a slight puffiness and stretched, dry, somewhat itchy, red eyelids and cheeks.
Me at Starbucks at 11 a.m. yesterday, awaiting the prescription to be filled.I've been told by One Who Knows that in 95% of cases, we never learn what caused the reaction. I have been taking antihistamines for weeks -- the Portland spring has been long and cold, and last weekend all the oaks and ashes bloomed at once. I don't think that's what caused this reaction alone -- I've never had a reaction as violent as this one before, and I haven't spent much time outdoors in the last few days. It could have been the new skin cream I was using, yet I had applied some on Saturday, with nary a tickle. Or a final critical mass of decomposing camellias, brought by Tasha, and piled outside both my windows and in stacks in my garbage pail, not counting the ones I haven't picked up yet, by her food dish, and on the way to the Favored Napping Chair. It could have been caused by the 15 minutes of sunshine I got on Saturday, although I was heavily sun-screened (but not hatted). It might have been some of the fumes from the water-based paint that HomoDomi is using in the basement, or stray trails of insulation from the attic project (more about that later).
Me at Starbucks, moments after the first photo, still awaiting my medication. Don't I look like I was beaten up? I'm actually trying to smile in the photo -- but I didn't feel much like smiling.Maybe it was the perfect storm of allergens, all combined against me in one attack on the White Towers of Gondamy. Luckily, the Riders of Prednisohan came to the rescue.
I've had only one similar attack, in 1989 in Los Angeles. One eye swelled up dramatically -- but nothing near as bad as this, just enough to make me feel a pariah as I walked through the shops on Rodeo Drive, after buying a pair of posh eye-masking sunglasses. I've always assumed it was something pernicious in the smog -- the swelling went away naturally a day or two later, after I left the city. Portland can get bad smog -- we're many polluting people and cars surrounded by mountains, but they have air alerts on those windless days, and these tend to happen in baking August.
One of the side effects of prednisone -- which, by the way, must be the origin of the "bitter pill" metaphor, because it tastes horrific -- is "hyperactivity" or "craziness" according to the nurse practitioner who prescribed it to me, and the pharmacist (and, I guess, every commentator about Barry Bonds and other baseball players, despite denials of steroid-use). I have certainly noticed that I have had much more energy the last two days, after my doses, than any time the preceding two weeks. I believe I've been fighting allergies for some time now, which might explain the low word output. Either the hyperness is what I need to bring me back up to about normal levels of activity, or maybe the steroids are reducing the swelling of whatever it is that has been holding me down. I only get to take the drug for one more day, and I hope I can retain the energy level after that.
Me, noon today, 25 hours after the photos above, 2 doses of prednisone later. The camera washes out the red-purpley ness of the swelling, but even with the discoloration, I look much better than I did. There was a moment when I realized I was aware of my blinks -- that my eyes were open enough again, that the eyelid took time to traverse across the eyeball.
3 comments:
Personnally, it doesn't look "painful", because I suspect that there wasn't much actual pain, but I do suspect that it was both uncomfortable and debilitating, not the right word, but it'll have to do.
My real comment is on the "bitter pill" comment. I suspect that you don't remember taking the malaria pills that we had to take in Nigeria. Now those were bitter, and would be a more reasonable orgin for the term "bitter pill", especially since it's been around somewhat longer.
The good news though is that if you have not yet completely recovered yet, you are on the way towards recovery. I hope you feel better soon.
Mister Invisible
Well, yes, it was less painful than uncomfortable -- funny, because it burned terribly, but I find it difficult to call that sensation "pain". And it itched around the edges, too, adding to the discomfort.
I am indeed much better today, and I doubt casual friends would notice anything different -- except I'm a little bruised, literally, under my eyes, so I have a faint purple line rather than bags.
And you're right on all counts, David -- I don't remember the malaria pill flavor, and it would be more likely a "bitter pill" than prednisone. Actually, given the complete lack of etymological info I can find on the phrase, my guess is that it refers to merely any pill that is bitter. But both malaria and prednisone can stand in if they need to.
Hey, could it have something to do with something the dentist used when you had your tooth done?
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