Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Needle Happy Nurses and Drug Addictions

True Life: I have turned into a drug addict.

Lemme just say, it SUCKS to be sick in college. For me AND my poor roomie, who has been FREEZING all week because it's cold enough to hang meat in our room. But thanks to my coughing and the heating pad that is permanently strapped to my chest, it feels GREAT to me. Sorry Jen, thanks for putting up with me. :)

Anyway, the people who work at the Student Health Center are CRAY CRAY. I try to avoid going there unless I'm in dire need of drugs. No matter what you go there for, they always want to take your blood. ALWAYS! They are needle happy. (Word on the street is that it's so the nurses can get some practice in. Uhh, put the needle down and back away. You are NOT practicing on me.) Anyway, I picked up a cold from God knows where, and it turned into bronchitis and a URI. Go figure. (Also, I don't think staying out in the freezing cold and being around a bunch of smokers until 4am Friday night was a good idea. But hey, it was Bulldog Bash!) So thanks to my sucky immune system and irresponsible (but ridiculously fun) weekend plans, I had to drag myself to the SHC yesterday. The beginning of this week's visit went a little something like this:

*grumpy lady with an attitude takes me to the back*
(Note: I INSTANTLY notice the huge needle and tube thingys. Cue panic attack.)
Nurse: Sit. *points to chair* (Uh.. am I a dog?)
Me: (I sit like the good dog I am. Where's my treat?)
Nurse: Roll up your sleeve.
Me: Um.. roll up my sleeve?
Nurse: *rolls eyes* Yes. Blood test.
Me: Oh, I'm sorry but I don't need a blood test.
Nurse: You don't want no blood test? Why you think you don't need one? (att-i-tude.)

I kindly explain that I know what's wrong with me, and a blood test isn't necessary. I just need to see a doctor, get my oxygen levels checked, and get some antibiotics. She huffed and puffed, but finally let me go back to the front and wait for the doctor. Nurses HATE when I do that. I know they think I'm just a bratty, know-it-all college student, but forreals. After 18 years of this nonsense, I know what I'm talking about. I finally got a doctor and she was AWESOME. Bronchitis. URI. Low oxygen levels. Just like I said. In your face mean, needle happy nurse.

Then Awesome Doctor said two tragic words: bed rest. Uhh.. what? What does that even mean? No class. No walking long distances. No driving. Try to never be by myself in case my oxygen levels drop too low and I pass out. Um.. WHAT? I just stared at her for a really, really long time. This is the busiest week of my life and I'm not allowed to leave my bed? I thought bed rest was only for dying/pregnant people. I'm too young to be dying, and my eggo is certainly not preggo. (Name that movie.)

So here I am. Just me, my drugs, and my breathing machine. (I'm 18 and I have a BREATHING MACHINE. Am I aging in reverse or something? Curious Case of Alexa Cacibauda, anyone?) In my room. In bed. Where I've been ALL FRICKIN DAY and will continue to stay until Awesome Doctor says I can go to class and be normal. And to add cherries to the top of my Sundae of Sick Suckness, SHC isn't allowed to give excuses for missing class. Even though they are making me miss. Ummmm.

Sucks. To. Suck.

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