The Pain and My Savior
Dayna, Fire, Cabin and Moon Rise
Dayna and I have begun taking on adventures. Any chance we get I am taking time off work and we have been getting in our fair share of trouble. We even purchased a tear-drop trailer for camping this summer and are getting ready for our great tour of the American West. We took it on a test run camping trip and towed it to southern Utah for my birthday. It was cold as hell, but it is just big enough to sleep both of us and the ever faithful Gizmo, the wonder dog. With that in mind, I decided it was a good time to finally take care of some minor health issues. My feet have plagued me for years. I have the flattest stumps that serve as feet. I was fitted for orthopedics and they have been great. Hopefully no more shin splints on the flat sections of hikes. But I have also had several nails plagued by toe fungus for several years. This has been a constant source of embarrassment and those that know me know I never take my socks off in front of people. However, this summer I plan to be on the beach a lot and I figured it was time to get a handle on the situation. About a month ago I began taking prescription Lamisil pills (generic; Terbinafine HCL 250 mg) to fight off the infection, little did I know that an attempt to fix my toe nails was about to turn into one of the most painful and humbling experiences in my life.
My dad making fireAbout three weeks into the regimen of pills and cream I began waking in the middle of the night for no reason and I began to feel pain and pressure in my ears. My ear canals swelled up to the point they became shut. I couldn’t put head phones on and it sounded as if I was under water all the time. Dayna urged me to see a doctor early on, but I shrugged it off as just probably an ear infection. We irrigate my ears and put medicated drops in. My issues resolve quickly, but little did I know this was the first salvo my body had fired at me in an attempt to warn me of the impending pain and demise that was marching it’s way through my flesh. I went out of town for a couple days on cool assignment about the western Utah desert. No problems. On Friday May 1st (11 days ago) I find myself with an unexpected day off. We had planned to meet one my fellow tribune photographers and friends that morning. We were to have our portrait done as part of Mother’s Day gift for Dayna’s mom. I wake and notice a couple spots on my skin on my arms. I figured I must have been bit by a spider. However, by the time I get out of the shower hives are covering my neck, my arms, my chest and the palms of my hands. At that moment I had a few choice words. I had heard hives were a known side-effect of the lamisil, but it was rare and usually not serious. I call my podiatrist and he confirms it is a side-effect of the pills and tells me to stop taking the drug and it should resolve itself with some benedryl. By the time I am off the phone, the hives have begun to spring up on my face and around my eyes. We race off to Walgreen’s and I purchase all the benedryl pills and creams I can grab. Dayna is a trooper, she is a former a soldier, and orders me to take off my shirt right there in the Walgreen’s parking lot where she is slathering me with benedryl cream. All the people at the adjacent McDonald’s are getting more than they expected with their morning mcmuffin. We have a day off together and we are not about to waste it with a case of hives. We go to a party that night at the house of friend of mine from my former life as a ski and snowboard photographer. No issues, just cool patterns on my skin. Saturday I work my shift with mild discomfort but by evening I am beginning to feel pain. A burning sensation. Sunday May 3rd I wake and I am covered from head to toe. There will be no work for me. We race off to University of Utah Urgent care. Once there I am in pain, covered in hives and swelling. The doctor confirms it is the lamisil which I have already stopped taking but explains the drug takes weeks to build up in my skin and toe nails where it fights off the original infection. With that in mind he explains just how toxic of a substance it is and informs us it may take weeks to get out of my system because it is embedded in my skin. A simple detox is not going to work. With the extent of the hives he orders complete blood work including a liver function test. The doctor jokes I may be having this reaction due to stress and hints that upcoming nuptials maybe the cause. We both blush and laugh if off. I walk out with a shit-load of prescriptions for antihistamines and the steroid prednizone. I begin taking my drugs at once and head home for the night. The hives have really taken hold and as the doctor explained, I am just as broken out on the inside of my body as I am on the outside. I am having some difficulties moving around and can’t get comfortable but Dayna is there to help me. She somehow splits her attention between me and her studies. She is preparing for her finals for what will be her THIRD masters degree. Here I am, a community college drop out that has a beautiful girlfriend that is younger than me and is willing to take care of me and somehow manages to excel at her career and tackle three master’s degrees. On Monday I work most of my shift in the office but leave a couple hours early to get some rest. Tuesday morning rolls around and I meet travel writer Tom Wharton in the morning for a simple assignment. We are going to spend a couple hours on the north shore of the Great Salt Lake for a story then travel to Brigham City for lunch and a quick feature. We finish the first of our day with no problems. I was feeling great. But just as we are to drive to Brigham City I notice a knot in my throat I can feel when I swallow. I figure its a hive and take a couple benedryl. But by the time we get into town with another stop along the way my feet are swelling. I slather my feet with benedryl. I am hobbling a bit and hurt but I am ok and we have lunch. However, by the time we finish lunch and I pick up my camera to shoot a feature at the place we just ate it is obvious to everyone that something is not right. I shoot my photos and limp back to the car. I have gone from a healthy active 32-year-old to hobbling hunched over like a 99-year-old depression era survivor in the matter of an hour. W
e get back to Salt Lake where we go our different ways. I am once again en route to seek medical attention. I call Dayna to inform her of what is going on but she is a couple hours away with her work but is getting to me as fast as possible. I call my dad and he is en route to meet me. I am really scared. It hurts to touch the steering while. When I get to the parking lot I crawl out of my car. The pain has sapped all my strength. I very slowly limp in the front door. I am not kidding, an old woman with a walker passes me. I am so screwed. Once in I am rushed back to an examine room. My dad arrives and is pretty shocked by what he sees. The doctor informs me the “latent drug reaction” has really taken hold of my body and I am basically screwed. My earlier liver test results are in and it shows I have elevated liver enzyme levels meaning my body has been waging a war for awhile. The damage is not suspected to be permanent, but I will need further testing to ensure they do come down. In a later phone discussion I am informed it is lucky I quit the drug when I did, otherwise it could have been fatal. I walk out with a prescription for triple the dose of Prednizone steroids. The idea is that the steroid will suppress my immune system and keep my body from fighting off the lamisil so hard. That way the toxic drug can exit my system without my body going all suicide-bomber on itself. That is at least the idea. And if I can avoid a micro conquest or jihad taking place with my own flesh and blood … well, sign me up. My dad carefully helps me into the car and he make sure I take my first super massive dose of roids. Dayna is on the other side when I get home and all 110 pounds of her carries me into the house and deposits me in bed where I will stay for two nights and a day. I am a bawling mess, I don’t have the strength to lift myself up. I am scared and angry… she takes care of me. I am a blubbering mess … she takes care of me. I try to fight my way to an upright position … she takes care of me. I become a total angry asshole about the whole situation …. she goes and studies. On Thursday I have gained a ton of strength back. The doctor had given me the ok to travel. I have the weekend off for vacation so we opt to hit the road and join my family at our cabin near Pinedale, Wyoming. But after a nice day of traveling and enjoying what seems to be my health returning we are nailed by the effects of the mega-dose of prednizone. My whole body begins to swell again. I am swelling so bad I can’t bend my fingers. My face swells all weird and my fingers are turning blue because all the circulation is being cut off. My joints are filled with so much fluid I can’t bend any of them. I have been in serious car accidents and have been partially ejected in the past. The only way I can equate what is going is to describe it as like being in a rollover car accident and ejected out the windshield straight into a meat grinder. It is literally as if any time I try to move my muscles are being torn apart for the inside.
My dadSo here we are, trying to enjoy a nice weekend away, and I can’t even get out of bed once we are there. I literally have to have her lift me out of bed in the middle of the night just to get to the bathroom. But she does it and never complains. She helps me in and out of the car. At one point I don’t have the strength of a baby and I can’t even lift a can of soda to take a sip. But Dayna is there and she monitors my every move and is always one step ahead of me to ensure I can still try to have a nice weekend. By Friday we determine it is my best interest to get off the Prednizone. It’s one of those situation where it is as if we are using an atomic bomb to repaint a bedroom. The hives will return, but at least I can still go to the bathroom on my own with hives. We manage to still have a nice weekend and even venture to Jackson Hole for a day of some shopping and being tourist. It is now 11 days since the original hives set in. I am going to try to work tomorrow, I am gain some strength back. I have had about 6 hours of decent health and normal walking ability in each of the last couple days. Over all I feel as if I am on the mend, but i definitely feel as if I have been seriously aged by the whole process. But I am thankful for several things. My family has been so supportive through this whole ordeal and has done all they can to make sure I am getting back to health. My employers have cleared me off the schedule when needed. And then there has been Dayna. She has given so much to be there for me. When I have scratched at a hive I can feel the daggers shoot from her eyes telling me stop, and if I still don’t stop, a quick slap swiftly dealt by her usually does the trick. At times I have hated the world for putting me through this and she has been there to fight back my punches in the wind. When I had fallen or found myself without the strength to sit up right or stand, she has been there to wipe away the tears and help me stand.
Dayna, Gizmo and CabinIt may take several more weeks before I am back up to 100 percent but I am sure I will get there. With my family and Dayna there to pick me up and wipe away the tears, I cannot fail. They make that impossible.
2 Responses to “The Pain and My Savior”
wow. crazy, man. Get well soon!
-trent
Jimmy;
1) Keep that girl!
2) Get better!
3) We miss you.
- Dorf