So in this post I talk about being sick a couple times if you don't want that then just scroll.
After Ron and I ran off together I got a LOT of bladder infections. He didn't keep himself clean and I hadn't learned a few tricks I later used daily which prevented "self" caused bladder infections (using a wet wipe after bowel movement, etc.). I had a doctor who was a narcissist and "had" to be right and "prove" I didn't have yet another bladder infection every time I went to see him. It was a difficult relationship and since I had Kaiser HMO I was stuck with him. So one time he calls me and says the culture came back that I had a severe bladder infection but he thought I had contaminated the sample (he said it right out like that). And he wouldn't give me antibiotics. Needless to say I got really sick a week or two later, ended up in ER with a raging kidney infection and in the hospital for a week on the IV because the nausea was so bad. Even the nausea medication didn't help it just stopped me vomiting but I was still miserable. Boy was I happy when the antibiotics kicked in. They gave me Keflex. I urinated a few hours after getting my first dose and the stench was horrific all the dead bacteria. I have never smelled that before or since. So that was a top contender for sickest in my life. I ran a fever of 101-103 the entire week.
The good news Kaiser fired him for malpractice and I got a much better doctor after that. I never felt like I had to sue I was just happy they canned the guy.
Then in 2004 we had a long and complicated process buying the house (interest in a blog on that maybe? Let me know!). finally closed on it in June 2004. We went out to breakfast first at a nationally known restaurant chain. I had scrambled eggs, Ron had an omlette. They used egg mix for the omlette so Ron was OK. I got sick right after we closed on the house when we should have been celebrating. It was one of the few times in my life I saw Ron 100% happy. Then I started vomiting.
I had salmonella we had both taken food safety classes and knew the symptoms. Based on the timing we knew it was the scrambled eggs (I still don't really like them). I was very ill, so ill I did not want to ride in an ambulance or in a friend's car because I was worried I would erupt in there and leave a God-awful mess. It was hard enough getting 15 feet to the toilet Ron had to bring me the (mothballed) commode chair and empty it out for me; and he did. He was very faithful bringing me water (realize now it should have been Gatorade),and emptying the bucket even though I could hear him gagging. It took me about 2 weeks to recover. I lost 15 pounds. He gets a gold star for that and I'm sure God let him know how much that meant to me.
I bought myself a small pack of women's adult diapers years later when the stores began carrying them in case I ever have that happen again.
My cat Baby Girl the First was a good companion in that, and Bubba of course. I only had Baby Girl the first (I tend to reuse cat names) for a few months she was the one that was poisoned. But they slept with me.
So I very rarely eat scrambled eggs now, and when I buy them I inspect them for cracks. But I rarely eat eggs. I lost my taste.
I cannot remember why I started this blog but there you have it.
Oh and also my throat swelled up the last time I ate almonds so I am terrified of them now.
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