My pussy gave me an STD

I have gonorrhea. No, wait. Chlamydia.

See, and you were ready to just write me off for not posting this week...this is worth the wait.

No, i really don't have either of those but it is a good story. IF you're not me.

2 weeks ago this coming Saturday I wake up with a UTI. Yes, i was certain it was a UTI. I am a girl. Girls know their Vuh-jay-jays. We understand that whole 'nether world down there.

We know our period down to when it should and should not show up, we know when the cramps will set in, we know how many light, heavy and WTF (?!) tampons we're going to need at any given time. We know how we get a UTI, we know what it takes to doctor ourselves until we get a script (AZO), and we know to pee after sex to avoid them if possible. We know yeast and monistat and itch. We.know.

So when i woke up all dancin' around to pee - and like a drop came out and i STILL.HAD.TO.GO. but couldn't - i knew. And of course, it was a Saturday and my GYN doesn't call in scripts. crap. Soooooooo...field trip to the 'ole Centra Care Walk in. Just great. Explain symptoms to the new, young, let me get out the med school book doc and presto, i have a script in my hand.

I say to young, wet behind the ears, doc - "I'm allergic to Noroxin - this doesn't have the same stuff in it right - my throat closes up and i go from breathing to dead in like 5 minutes."

Young doc "Uhm, no, this is a different drug. They must not make that anymore because i googled (oh, yes, she did say that) when i saw that on your sheet for allergies and it doesn't even come up."

Well, i feel better now. Google has everything. I mean, I'd be concerned if she said she looked it up in her Encyclopedia Brittanica - but Google - I'm good, right?

So, script in hand i go to the pharmacy and hand it over to OLD pharmacist.

Me: "So, i asked the doctor if this was similar to Noroxin because i'm very allergic to that - and she said no, so this is ok for me to take, right?"

Old pharmacist peering over bifocals (old is good, old = experience): "Only if she's trying to kill you - you can't take this, it's almost the same drug. They don't make Noroxin anymore, but this has the same base - you can't take it."

Glad i asked.

So, old pharmy calls and gets a new script for me and sends me on my way.

I take the new meds, go out to dinner and continue to get worse. Over dinner, my friend Christine says not to worry - you'll feel a hundred percent better by tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes. Now i have a fever, chills and my body feels like it's been hit by a truck. This isn't 100% better. I'm pretty sure it's 180% in the opposite direction.

So, V packs me up and we go to another (yes, i'm a glutton for punishment)Centra Care. It IS Sunday remember - my only other alternative is the emergency room. But wait, i don't want to jump ahead to THAT part of the story...

We get there and i explain to the college kid behind the counter the story of what has happened thus far to get me to his doorstep (but i'm pretty sure that all he could hear was the pounding in his head from his all nighter at the clubs that probably ended an hour before his shift at the walk in.) And he instructs us to sit.

And wait.

and wait.

oh, and wait some more.

an hour later the OLD doctor comes in.

Now, see, the only thing worse to see in a walk-in clinic, besides a YOUNG doctor, in my opinion, is an OLD doctor.

Let's face it, the old doctors should either be sitting on advisory boards and planning their retirement, or golfing and brunching on Sunday mornings.

They should be WAY PAST doing their time in the 7-11 of doctor's offices. I was a little concerned.

He comes in, looks at my chart, looks at me and then looks at Vance (yes i am a baby, and yes he has to come in with me most of the time in case i die. Yes, i always take it to that extreme) and says in all seriousness. "I think i need to send you to the emergency room. I can't perform the tests that i need here, and you need attention now."

Me, not nearly as scared, as you might think by what he just threw out there: "Tests? What are you testing for exactly? I thought i had a really bad UTI."

Him, glancing at V again, and then at me, and then back to V (Good lord man, spit it out): "Well, this is a delicate conversation to have, and i'm not sure..."

Me, now just annoyed: "WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?"

Him: "I'm just saying that the symptoms you have indicate a sexually transmitted disease."

OK, THIS IS WHERE BOTH VANCE AND I START LAUGHING. Doc man doesn't take this too well. In fact, he seems to infer that this is our only possibility. SERIOUSLY.

So, Van says "Look, she, we, don't have VD, but if you need to do tests on her to rule that out to find out WHAT'S REALLY WRONG WITH HER - i'll take her to the ER."

And that's where we head next.

ER triage nurse: "Ok, what brings you here?"

Now, let me explain. They have triage set up RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ER WAITING ROOM. I was not about to yell "CENTRA CARE THINKS I HAVE GONORRHEA"..so i lean in and whisper "Centra care thinks i have gonorrhea" .

She leans back in her chair, giggles, rolls her eyes and says "Uhm, do YOU think you have gonorrhea?"

Me: "No, i went in thinking i have a UTI, and out i come out with VD. If i go back, I'm afraid they'll diagnose me with HIV."

Her, laughing: "Honey, no offense, i think he had good intentions, but do you have any other symptoms? You're not exactly the profile for VD."

Me: "I have no idea what other symptoms would be"

Her: "discharge?"

Me: "No." Like i said, i know my Vuh-jay-jay.

Her: "Go home, take the meds the first doctor gave you, take some motrin, and call your own doctor tomorrow am. I'm not testing you for VD, that's absurd."

Thank you kind nurse, while you made me laugh, i still don't know what the hell's wrong with me.

Next morning. Lymph nodes are like marbles under my skin and i can't get out of bed.

I call my regular doctor. In case you were wondering, he is the perfect age. Not too young, not too old. He's my age within a few months. And he's cute. And he talks with me, not to me. And he believes in a balance of eastern and western medicine. He.is.perfect.

Regular doctor says "come in now".

And i do. And i don't wait for more than 15 minutes. (Have i said he's perfect?)

I tell him the story of my no good, very bad, weekend and that i'm dying from an STD.
And he looks at me and says "well, clearly, a mother with 2 children in her late 30's living in Maitland (it IS kind of uppity little town) fits that description."

He looks at my legs and sees where my kittens have gone to town climbing up my legs like they were using a jungle gym, and says i have Bartonella, cat scratch disease.

No STD. But i did get it from my pussy. BAWAAAAAAAAAAA. sorry, couldn't resist.

Evidently, if you let Bartonella go too long without meds, it will settle in your urinary tract and manifest itself in the same manner as a UTI. Except you get the added bonus of a fever, chills and feeling even more like shit. Who knew?

So, i am on the second round of a z-pack and am almost fully recovered.

I apologize for being so absent these last few days, but give me a break - I WAS DYING PEOPLE, DYING, I SAY.span>