If you know me in real life, you know I have had a rough few days. Sunday, I had my regular deep tissue massage. I have them every 3 weeks-they feel a little like this:
They’re pretty necessary for me, though. My rhomboids are always knotted up beyond anything I can beg my husband to do. Our conversations usually go as follows:
Laura-“Jeff, will you rub my shoulders?”
Jeff-*dutifully reaches over to shoulder blades* “Jeez, it’s like there’s a stick poking out of your back!”
Repeat. I’m normally a pretty tense person-I collect my stress, insecurity, and worry, ball it up, and place it directly into my back. Add to that my desk job, tendency to sleep curled up tighter than a roly poly bug, and brutal workouts and you get some serious musculoskeletal issues. I am a fairly practical and cheap lady, so spending money on massage, however necessary, has been a guild inducing expense. I have bought about every Groupon for massage I could get my hands on, and I usually end with the same result-they come out after the massage, shrug their shoulders, and say “I tried”. Finally, a friend of ours graduated massage school and I wanted to give him a shot. And I think he’s really helping. Deep tissue isn’t the most relaxing thing on earth-there’s been a few times I didn’t know if I’d puke or cry. But I do feel better afterwards, even though I’m pretty sore the next few days. And this week was no different-I was more knotted up this time than I was for our first session! Came home, crawled under my heated blanket (AKA the best thing EVER) and took a Sunday afternoon nap. Felt a little off the rest of the night but didn’t think too much of it.
Monday, I woke up with a migraine. I had the beginnings of one the Monday prior, but chased it away with meds. Same thing that Friday. but this one seemed to have caught up with me. Most of Monday was a blur-came home from work, hid in my dark bedroom, made Jeff warm me up some soup while BOTH dogs kept an eye on me. When it was both dogs, I probably should have known it was more serious than a migraine. Duncan will stay close to me no matter what, but generally when I’m sick Foster gives me space. He’s such a genteel, prissy dog I imagine he’s telling me “damnit, woman, get yourself together! I’ll come back when you’re in control.” Thought I was better enough to head to our weekly Monday dinner, but the second I stepped into a well lit room, I recoiled in horror. I curled up on our host’s couch in my husband’s hat to block out the light until it was time to go home. Tuesday was even worse-I was supposed to teach at the gym but there was no way. Head still throbbing, still dizzy, I convinced my power pump class to lift on their own and crawled back into bed.
I got up Wed morning and really thought I was OK. But once again, bringing myself into the fluorescent lights of the office turned out to be more than I could take, and Jeff insisted I call my dr. 3 day headaches just don’t happen. So I headed home and napped until my appointment this afternoon. A few simple tests later, with a blood and UA test to confirm, I had a diagnosis: Viral Encephalitis. I’d heard the two words, but never in succession. It’s basically a virus that gives you flu symptoms but also attacks your brain with a viral infection.
Only me, right? Nobody else I know could end up with such an off the wall ailment. Doc told me to stay home until Monday, not sure if that was for my own sake or because it can be contagious, but with a viral infection I won’t take the chance of making anyone sick. Today I was feeling a bit better, I was awake a bit more today than the previous days. The dogs are still stuck to me like glue, though-it’s really sweet to look down and know they’re keeping an eye on me. Selfless little buggers.
So, anyway, Laura’s crazy, but now I can blame it on my poor inflamed brain! More when the swelling goes down!