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Sleep?
Not here.
On Friday I went up to San Francisco to meet with my accountant. Warren made us a car pool. I was going to go back down the peninsula right away, but the radio said there were accidents all along the highway, so we decided to make a date of it.
Warren found this cute little Mandarin place. We went in and ordered Chicken with Broccoli and Cashews and the house's Special Noodles. I was starving, so I started eagerly devouring the noodles until I saw this teeny something that didn't belong. Yup; a mushroom.
We rushed out of the restaurant, down the street, and into the nearest drug store where I bought and took some generic Benadryl capsules. We then headed southward towards home.
About halfway there I started having trouble breathing and could feel my throat closing in. "Hospital," I said. "Now."
"Can it wait?" asked Warren.
"If it could wait I wouldn't be saying 'hospital.'"
Through sheer luck and the fortuitous flagging-down of a cop in San Mateo we found a hospital. I was immediately taken into ER and pumped with prednisone.
I'm still on prednisone. I'm now in the "you don't get sleep and you retain water like a sponge" stage. My legs feel all stiff and bloated. My fingers haven't fully recovered. I thought I'd rest today, but we're waiting for Warren's neurologist to call and the radio station asked me to fill in from 7pm-11pm. I got some more computer stuff done today, but I've been way less productive in the computer front and the resting front.
Meanwhile, I've got coffee to finish. I need to be perky and "minty fresh" for my teensy shift.
On Friday I went up to San Francisco to meet with my accountant. Warren made us a car pool. I was going to go back down the peninsula right away, but the radio said there were accidents all along the highway, so we decided to make a date of it.
Warren found this cute little Mandarin place. We went in and ordered Chicken with Broccoli and Cashews and the house's Special Noodles. I was starving, so I started eagerly devouring the noodles until I saw this teeny something that didn't belong. Yup; a mushroom.
We rushed out of the restaurant, down the street, and into the nearest drug store where I bought and took some generic Benadryl capsules. We then headed southward towards home.
About halfway there I started having trouble breathing and could feel my throat closing in. "Hospital," I said. "Now."
"Can it wait?" asked Warren.
"If it could wait I wouldn't be saying 'hospital.'"
Through sheer luck and the fortuitous flagging-down of a cop in San Mateo we found a hospital. I was immediately taken into ER and pumped with prednisone.
I'm still on prednisone. I'm now in the "you don't get sleep and you retain water like a sponge" stage. My legs feel all stiff and bloated. My fingers haven't fully recovered. I thought I'd rest today, but we're waiting for Warren's neurologist to call and the radio station asked me to fill in from 7pm-11pm. I got some more computer stuff done today, but I've been way less productive in the computer front and the resting front.
Meanwhile, I've got coffee to finish. I need to be perky and "minty fresh" for my teensy shift.
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I got poisoned the same way the day Fuzzball died.
In both cases I made it clear to the waitress I was deathly allergic to them, but somehow the cook didn't get the message.
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Is there anything you can carry with you (legally and safely, I mean) that would counteract the mushroom effect, in case it ever happens in the boonies far from a hospital?
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Maybe you should tell them every time you order food somewhere that they NEVER EVER should put in mushrooms?
And how about asking your GP to prescribe you an emergency set, with adrenaline and Prednisone, an anti - histamin drug? I know they have such sets, mostly for beestitch allergies, but it should work in your situation, too.
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As for ordering, Warren and I made it very clear. The waitress looked on in horror when she saw the itty bitty mushroom piece. Her manager at first tried to pooh-pooh it, but then realized the seriousness of the situation.