1 Year Ago Today:The Worst I've Endured.

It's weird that I remember it so clearly but I just do.

I remember because it was Anzac Day and I thought to myself "Wow.  This is the worst day ever to get sick".

I still have the scars,  you know.







I had been feeling run down and under the weather for a little while.
I had just survived school holidays at the cafe so I thought that was the reason.

It got so bad (my tiredness) that I couldn't even stay awake long enough to prepare a meal for myself.
Lyndon had to come home at lunch time and make me something to eat.
I slept and slept.

I thought it was just the flu or something.


Then there was a sore on my head.
I remember discovering it,  near the base of my skull.
It was all crusty and felt almost like an area of dandruff.
Dandruff is itchy.

I use shampoo for dandruff though so I haven't had an itchy scalp in over ten years.
It was odd.


The night before Anzac Day,  this very night,  one year ago,  I went for a shower and noticed some strange blisters on my upper torso.
What in the world?
I counted the blisters.  There were less than twenty.
A few minutes later I counted again and it had jumped into the thirtys.


Something was very wrong.


I don't know what I thought it was.

Maybe a skin irritation or something like that?


I went to bed,  my scalp still itchy.
I was convinced this was because of dandruff.



The next morning, Lyndon went to the Anzac Day dawn service while I continued to sleep (I had been doing that a lot)
When he got home he tried to tell me about it but I was just so tired and foggy-brained.

Somehow it was decided I needed to go see a doctor,  so we did that.


$100 later and I was diagnosed with glandular fever and a staphylococcus infection (that's what the crusty scab on my head and the blisters on my body supposedly were).

I called my dad and cried.
I felt absolutely awful.

Glandular fever was no joke and I didn't know how I was going to cope.


I don't remember the rest of the day.
I was still feeling very cruddy and had started taking the antibiotics I was given that morning for the staphylococcus infection.

I slept a lot.



I woke up the next morning, the day after Anzac Day with an EXTREMELY itchy scalp.


It felt like my head was in flames.

The whole thing ached and itched with a ferocity I'd never experienced.


It was 5am and I sat up in the bed and cried.

My whole body felt gluggy and utterly destroyed.
Everything ached.
The blisters on my chest were becoming hot and itchy,  my head,  well I already explained what that felt like.

It seemed as if my entire body had betrayed me.  I couldn't trust it.  I was trapped in a shell that continued to cause me immense discomfort.



Amongst my tears, I decided (or felt lead) to book a flight back to Kaitaia.
If I did have glandular fever,  Lyndon wasn't going to be able to take care of me

He was working full-time and I needed constant attention.
I couldn't do anything on my own anymore.

So the flights were booked.


I had to get blood tests done before my flight so Lyndon took me to the doctors again.
They drew so much blood.
I squirmed and squealed.

When Lyndon dropped me at the airport I couldn't stop crying.

By this point the blisters on my upper torso had spread up my chest and were now visible all over my neck.

I looked horrid.

And I was crying a lot.

No one else said anything.

I got on the plane and continued to cry.

I flew all the way to Keri Keri and my little brother picked me up.


He was not overly excited about the blisters on my neck.  I had asked him earlier to bring a pillow so I could sleep on the hour-long car ride home.

I managed to do so for most of the trip.



A little while after I arrived I went to see my dad at work.

He took one look at me and told me I had the chicken pox,  even though I'd already had them when I was 12.


He got another doctor to take a look for a second opinion.

She confirmed it was chicken pox.

I remember her exclaiming "Oh my goodness they're all down your throat, girl!" Or something to that effect.

They were down my throat.
The blisters.

I could feel them.

Within a few days I was almost completely covered in them.



I thought I was going to die.


My whole body was just one big,  aching,  betrayal of what it used to be.

A few days in I lost my ability to speak or even swallow my own saliva.


My dad got me numbing gel so I could try and eat and drink but it still hurt.

It felt like I was swallowing razor blades.



I slept almost all day.




I didn't leave the house for over a week.

Did not step outside once.

I want to cry just thinking about it.

I felt so unbelievably ill.



Lyndon wanted to call me but I couldn't talk so we just had to text.


Even though my throat was badly infected with blisters,  I still had to swallow two large pills around three times a day.



It became a blur.



I couldn't stay away to watch The Bachelor at 7.30pm.

I took many baths with a tar solution that helped the itching.

My mother had to put calomine cream on my blisters after ever bath.


Some of the blisters scarred .





Eventually I started to get better.

I returned to Dunedin ten days after I'd left.

Most of these days were spent asleep.



I had never been so sick ever in my life.




It's been a year but I still think about it.

If I had stayed in Dunedin thinking it was glandular fever,  I could have gotten gravely ill.


So I'm glad I left.  And I'm glad it's over and I survived.


But I still think about it.


It was definitely the worst thing I've ever experienced,  and I wouldn't wish it on anyone.