Yes, another temporary bump in the road. I had a wonderful week-end with the family, but I came away with a not so pleasant after affect. Something I ate was not the best. It seems a I came away with a food borne illness. I've not been feeling well since.
It all started on the Friday evening when Barry and I decided to stop for one of my favourites. It is a fried chicken joint, but not just any fried chicken, it is an east coast franchise and there are only two that we know of in Ontario. I was excited by the treat as I have been dieting for almost two months. We had separate meals and although mine tasted fine I couldn't finish it and there was something I couldn't quite put my finger on. It turns out that is a common feeling when there is a problem with food. Although it is tasteless and without aroma it can slightly change the texture to make it not as appealing when it is tainted. We didn't give that a second thought at the time, off we went to met the girls and get on with our weekend.
Later in the evening I had what I would call a heavy feeling stomach. Not sick, but a little uncomfortable. It wasn't until later the next day when the first sign of trouble arrived. And it was mild and didn't ruin our evening. In fact I went on to eat a lovely meal later that evening.
Over night that night I felt ill and up to the bathroom often. The next morning I was slow moving but having had promised Meghan a leisurely day downtown, I pushed ahead. I often do this at times like this because my disability often keeps me from fun events with the girls and Barry so the last thing I want to do is to cancel.
I should have cancelled. Once downtown Barry and Meghan wanted to find a cafe for brunch, I wasn't hungry. We entered the crowded cafe and found seats. As I looked at the menu I knew I was in trouble. I told them what was happening and I may have to leave at a moments notice. I made almost for them to finish and had to go outside to wait in the fresh air.
The car ride back to the hotel felt long. I crawled into bed after taking a gravol (an anti nausea medication for those not from Canada).
I felt terrible, physically and emotionally. Cancelling or cutting things short is a common thing in our family because of my health. I thought we had carefully planned this weekend not to have to deal with that. I felt ripped off. I had a whole afternoon with my baby girl and I had to spend it in bed.
She however,despite feeling sorry for me was okay because there is always a plan B. Plan B meant that she got to take her dad to a hot yoga class. Off they went and I slept the afternoon away. After a couple of hours they all arrived back including Jerri. We decided to watch the Grey Cup in our room given the circumstances.
The ride home the next day was not a pleasant one for me. It meant Imodium and lots of stops.
To make a long story short, the week consisted of me being home near a bathroom. It became more concerning as the week went by and I wasn't getting any better. By Wednesday I was feeling very confident that it wasn't a virus as too much time had passed.
I called the public health office in Guelph. I was very impressed with the thorough assessment they gave me. Afterward they had enough information to make the conclusion that it was in fact a food borne illness. They said the next steps were for me to see a doctor, and for them to go and inspect the fast food place I had eaten at.
By the end of the day, they had done their part. I got a call from them confirming they had been there and the inspector was satisfied they we handling food properly, the food was being cooked to appropriate temperature and so on. What they couldn't confirm was that the food I had eaten on that day was good or not. She still agreed I had a food borne illness and it was likely from there.
I on the other had had consulted Dr. Google. Bad, yes I know, but if you only knew how many times I see a doctor a year you may understand my reluctance.
By Friday, I had taken on a greyish colour and dark circles were the most predominant feature on my face. I felt sick. Done, worn out and just plain tired. I had eaten only toast and soup all week and little of that.
I finally called my doctor's office and explained my situation and how bad it had gotten. The receptionist who knows me well, said he's going to want to talk to you, he'll call you back. Fifteen minutes later he called. When he heard the sequence of events he agreed it was food poisoning and said those dreaded words. "I really should admit you!" There was a pregnant pause, before he said, because I know how much you would hate that, I will phone in a prescription and if things get worse in any way, I had to promise to have Barry bring me to the hospital to be admitted.
I got off the phone feeling like I had dogged a bullet, both because of the hospital thing and to be honest I almost never called. How stupid of me. I should have called earlier in the week.
I've had two days of antibiotics and I do feel somewhat better.
I have been drinking Gatorade and eating as instructed, and I hope to improve daily. I will see my doctor on Wednesday.
That's the whole crappy story, such as it is.
It all started on the Friday evening when Barry and I decided to stop for one of my favourites. It is a fried chicken joint, but not just any fried chicken, it is an east coast franchise and there are only two that we know of in Ontario. I was excited by the treat as I have been dieting for almost two months. We had separate meals and although mine tasted fine I couldn't finish it and there was something I couldn't quite put my finger on. It turns out that is a common feeling when there is a problem with food. Although it is tasteless and without aroma it can slightly change the texture to make it not as appealing when it is tainted. We didn't give that a second thought at the time, off we went to met the girls and get on with our weekend.
Later in the evening I had what I would call a heavy feeling stomach. Not sick, but a little uncomfortable. It wasn't until later the next day when the first sign of trouble arrived. And it was mild and didn't ruin our evening. In fact I went on to eat a lovely meal later that evening.
Over night that night I felt ill and up to the bathroom often. The next morning I was slow moving but having had promised Meghan a leisurely day downtown, I pushed ahead. I often do this at times like this because my disability often keeps me from fun events with the girls and Barry so the last thing I want to do is to cancel.
I should have cancelled. Once downtown Barry and Meghan wanted to find a cafe for brunch, I wasn't hungry. We entered the crowded cafe and found seats. As I looked at the menu I knew I was in trouble. I told them what was happening and I may have to leave at a moments notice. I made almost for them to finish and had to go outside to wait in the fresh air.
The car ride back to the hotel felt long. I crawled into bed after taking a gravol (an anti nausea medication for those not from Canada).
I felt terrible, physically and emotionally. Cancelling or cutting things short is a common thing in our family because of my health. I thought we had carefully planned this weekend not to have to deal with that. I felt ripped off. I had a whole afternoon with my baby girl and I had to spend it in bed.
She however,despite feeling sorry for me was okay because there is always a plan B. Plan B meant that she got to take her dad to a hot yoga class. Off they went and I slept the afternoon away. After a couple of hours they all arrived back including Jerri. We decided to watch the Grey Cup in our room given the circumstances.
The ride home the next day was not a pleasant one for me. It meant Imodium and lots of stops.
To make a long story short, the week consisted of me being home near a bathroom. It became more concerning as the week went by and I wasn't getting any better. By Wednesday I was feeling very confident that it wasn't a virus as too much time had passed.
I called the public health office in Guelph. I was very impressed with the thorough assessment they gave me. Afterward they had enough information to make the conclusion that it was in fact a food borne illness. They said the next steps were for me to see a doctor, and for them to go and inspect the fast food place I had eaten at.
By the end of the day, they had done their part. I got a call from them confirming they had been there and the inspector was satisfied they we handling food properly, the food was being cooked to appropriate temperature and so on. What they couldn't confirm was that the food I had eaten on that day was good or not. She still agreed I had a food borne illness and it was likely from there.
I on the other had had consulted Dr. Google. Bad, yes I know, but if you only knew how many times I see a doctor a year you may understand my reluctance.
By Friday, I had taken on a greyish colour and dark circles were the most predominant feature on my face. I felt sick. Done, worn out and just plain tired. I had eaten only toast and soup all week and little of that.
I finally called my doctor's office and explained my situation and how bad it had gotten. The receptionist who knows me well, said he's going to want to talk to you, he'll call you back. Fifteen minutes later he called. When he heard the sequence of events he agreed it was food poisoning and said those dreaded words. "I really should admit you!" There was a pregnant pause, before he said, because I know how much you would hate that, I will phone in a prescription and if things get worse in any way, I had to promise to have Barry bring me to the hospital to be admitted.
I got off the phone feeling like I had dogged a bullet, both because of the hospital thing and to be honest I almost never called. How stupid of me. I should have called earlier in the week.
I've had two days of antibiotics and I do feel somewhat better.
I have been drinking Gatorade and eating as instructed, and I hope to improve daily. I will see my doctor on Wednesday.
That's the whole crappy story, such as it is.
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