IV: When It's Not Just a Roman Numeral

If you read my husband's blog, you'll know that everyone in the house has been stricken with a horrible, insidious little norovirus that basically liquifies everything inside your body and sends it packing - quickly and with much vigor - out whatever orifice seems to be handy at the moment.

My husband had the worst of it on Sunday. Come Monday, I was feeling tired but otherwise seemed to be doing okay. Until around 1 a.m. on Tuesday.

First came the stomach pain.

Then came the four-times-an-hour trips to the bathroom.

I don't know about you, but I get a little concerned when the stuff coming out of you sounds and feels like urine...but it ain't. Not to be gross, but diarrhea should have at least a little substance to it, shouldn't it? Not this stuff. It was as watery as...well...water.

About four hours after this wonderfulness started, the northern orifice got into the act. I could feel it sitting right at the back of my throat, and I knew I'd feel better if it would just come up already!! So I stuck my finger back there and gave things a little nudge. While it was happening, it was very uncool, but I did feel a little better once it was over.

I haven't been eating - have absolutely no appetite - and drinking anything seemed to make my stomach unhappy so I haven't really been drinking much either.

This is not a good combination, especially when you're losing copious amounts of fluids.

I wound up at urgent care this afternoon. I knew there was nothing they could do to heal the virus but I have to have a note for my job when I miss three consecutive days.

They did some testing on my blood pressure - apparently that can determine dehydration - and then sent me off to the ER for rehydration.

Which means an IV. *eep*

I've never had an IV before. I've had blood taken, but never had an IV. The thought of having a needle stuck in my arm for an extended period of time makes me uneasy and nauseated. I am a baby, but that's just the way I am.

They ran a urine test - fortunately, I had enough urine to provide a viable sample. My ketones were high, and that's apparently the sign of dehydration, so in came the nurse with needles and stuff.

To be honest, I couldn't tell you what she did because I wasn't watching any of it. But she was very good - I'm sure it's hard finding a good vein when your subject is dehydrated and all her veins are being sucked away from the surface of the flesh. I felt a little prick, no worse than a blood draw, and then I was being hooked up to a large bag of fluid.

Fortunately, the rooms in the ER are equipped with TVs so while the fluid was dripping into my body, I could watch people spending a gods-awful amount of money to renovate their kitchen into something even uglier than what they already had.

Every now and again, my eyes would drift back to the bag and I'd watch the drops collecting in the smaller tube. It's actually pretty amazing, if you think about it. I was like, there's no way that entire bag is going to infuse. But, after about an hour, the machine beeped and its little screen said "Infusion Complete."

So here I am, home again with instructions to not eat anything for another 24 hours (it's been 48 hours already since I've had anything to eat, not counting the five - count 'em - five pretzels I had between yesterday and today). I can have water, clear juices, broth, and jello. I'm impatiently waiting for the jello to set up so I can at least feel like I'm eating something.

At least I can take comfort in the fact that I had a new experience today. Yeehaw.