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Somehow this came up in conversation with friends recently, and I was surprised at what stories they told. So what's your story? The question was, 

 

"What's the sickest you've ever been?"

 

Include everything... it might be that you were in an awful car crash, or deathly ill from accidentally eating a puffer fish (I hope not!) or someone accidentally nail-gunned your hand to a workbench...whatever.

 

Turns out I have really had it easy. I think the most ill I've ever been, in any way, was when I was about 7 mos. pregnant with my 2nd son, Brennan, and came down with pneumonia. I coughed so hard that time that I barely was able to sleep, and the coughs were so deep I thought I might push him out early! But compared to my friends' stories, I've led a pretty charmed life. Never even been in a hospital except for my own birth and having my kids. Oh! That's actually probably the sickest I've ever been, now that I think of it, because I was a tiny, 2-mos. premature baby.

 

We also got off on the side subject of bizarre accidents, so I was able to contribute Brennan's skateboard-related biting through his tongue at about age 8 (not completely, but deep enough that we needn't get more descriptive) and my other son, Tom, once slammed the kitchen utensil drawer and somehow popped a fork up which went straight through his index finger's tip. I came when I heard his howl, took one look and briskly pulled it out before he had time to think about it. Sometimes you've just gotta be a mom. Fortunately it really was "just a flesh wound".

 

Ok, I know you all have stories. Out with them. :uhoh

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I can still see it in slow-motion closeup: Sloppy meatballs sliding across the dorm room floor.

 

It was sixth-grade camp, a longstanding West Bend tradition that involved new middle schoolers spending a weekend at a local campground.  Like everyone, I had eagerly anticipated this event for several years, and the first day lived up to every expectation and rumor.  Volleyball, hiking, floor hockey, campfire songs, totally rad counselors who were (cool!) high school seniors.  Best of all, dinner was one of my favorites: spaghetti and garlic bread.  Eventually it came time to hit the pillow.  We traded bad jokes from our bunks, and planned merciless, sure-to-be-unfulfilled pranks on the girls just down the path.  And then... the stomach began to churn.  Sweat formed on the eyebrows.  The ears began to boil (right?).  There was no holding back.  I leaned over, and spewed a red river of spaghetti and meatballs that cascaded across the floor and underneath several other bunks.

 

"Do you miss home?," asked one of the counselors.  No, but I miss my dignity, I wanted to say.

 

The good news?  I got to stay, and enjoy a second day of awesomeness.  Plus, somehow I avoided becoming forever known as The Kid Who Totally Hurled At Sixth-Grade Camp.

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Today I went to the dentist and while checking out a panoramic x-ray of my teeth, he remarked that my left and right jaw joints were very dissimilar. I told him the story of an 18-year-old me drinking with my friends when one of the guys grabbed his father's handcuffs and cuffed me behind my back. After a few minutes of "I can't find the key," my friend picked me up at the waist and gravity did the rest. I fell about 4 feet onto my chin and shattered several molars and couldn't open my mouth for 3 weeks. The dentist's response was, "Dude, that's a terrible story!"

 

Besides a childhood tonsillectomy, my only other trip to the hospital was for a few stitches on my fingers after a tomato-slicing gone bad. The nurse droned on and on about her hangover and the doctor who stitched me up had some sort of horrible skin disease on his arm that I prayed wasn't contagious. He also had a head cold and, as he leaned over my hand to do the sewing, a single drop of watery snot would build at the end of his nose. I just knew that it was going to drop onto my open wound, but somehow he managed to sniff it back up every time. Nasty.

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Brutal case of campylobacter from an undercooked chicken sandwich I ate at a Vermont ski resort in the winter of 1994. I spent a day with viscious cramps and the runs in Vermont (and not ski runs, alas), and then a friend drove me back to my then home in CT the next day, cutting my vacation short. Once home, it got worse - the cramping was just awful - and I ended up dehydrated and in the ER two days later. Truly thought I might die. Gladly (?!) provided the hospital folks a little stool sample (ok, a lot of stool sample), and got it diagnosed as campylobacter. Medication to slow my digestive system down, and fluids, was the recipe to get me back to normal, which took another day.

 

The good news? A young woman I had recently broken up with nursed me back to health after I got out of the hospital. Thank God I got sick - I would have never known how incredibly awesome and caring she was/is. We got married 2 years later.

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The good news? A young woman I had recently broken up with nursed me back to health after I got out of the hospital. Thank God I got sick - I would have never known how incredibly awesome and caring she was/is. We got married 2 years later.

That's an awesome conclusion to that story!

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The sickest I've ever been isn't much of a story. I started feeling chest tightness and a little pain on a Monday that progressed to shortness of breath and appetite loss by Wednesday. Woke up in the middle of the night on Thursday night with a strange pain in my back near my shoulder. Felt bad enough that I went to the ER on Friday after work and was eventually diagnosed with multiple pulmonary emboli (blood clots in the lungs).

 

I was hospitalized for a few days and I've had to take a blood thinner ever since. The scary thing is that were it not for a full work-up and litany of blood tests in the ER for some pretty nondescript symptoms, I might not be here today. Which didn't help with my anxiety issues over the next couple of years.

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Jeebus bleedorange, that was a close one! Glad you were successfully & correctly diagnosed in time! Vague symptoms like that scare me, because as someone who hates going to the doctor, it's always a worry that you'll discount some symptom that actually should be investigated. I think we all want to believe things like, "I think I pulled a muscle gardening." 

 

These are all fascinating stories, and some of you will just have to forgive me for laughing so hard. It's sympathetic laughter, really it is, because I know that there but for the grace of God go I. :lol Be well, everybody.

 

Also: Ewwwww, Hixter, and even more so Beltmann, for the video. And Inside of Outside, what a great romantic twist!

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I'll play.

 

Back in late 2011 I developed two lymph node nodules; one in my neck inside the right parotid gland and the other next to my right ear. I had to wait three months to get the surgery, and I was unable to find out whether I had cancer during that entire time. The tissue biopsy would not take place until after the surgery. In January 2012 I underwent a parotidectomy, which included the removal of both of the lymph node nodules which were, thankfully, benign.

 

The only instructions they gave me when I left the hospital on Saturday morning were, "Don't take a shower for forty-eight hours." I hadn't been under general anesthesia for a surgery since I was 7, and in 2011 I was 47. I figured I'd be back to work in a few days. No problem.

 

I worked from home on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, then went back into work on Friday. I was taking some kind of pain med after surgery, but it didn't really matter. Every time I moved any of my facial muscles at all - for anything ranging from a slight smile to speaking a single word - the inside of my right ear felt like someone was pulling up on it with a knitting needle. By Friday night, I was back in bed with a nasty sinus infection.

 

Lying in bed, unable to move my face without excruciating pain, and unable to breathe through my nose, I realized that if I were watching a movie of this, it would be a comedy. But since it was me, it was not funny at all.

 

For more amusing stories about parotid glands, you can read a bit about Frey's syndrome on my blog, http://sahno.blogspot.com. Cheap plug, but what the heck.

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Winter backpacking about 10 years ago.....

 

Imagine beer and high octane small batch bourbon mixed with a sudden bout of stomach flu (couldve been food poisoning) resulted in me laying in my sleeping back feeling awful, then I'd barf and then the sweats would start which would cause me to start shivering then I'd barf and the cycle kept on going....all night long. I barely was able to get out of the woods the next day on my own power. I thought I was done for.

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I had a combination of the flu and a sinus infection that was topped off with Mono about ten years ago.

I was sick (I mean struggle to get out of bed, struggle to eat) from October to March.

To top things off, the bone spurs in my neck and sciatica decided that they wanted to join in the fun,.

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The mono outbreak of 2011 is to date the sickest I have ever been. I contracted it from a coworker (we were really bad about eating and drinking after each other). I went to the doctor about a week after she got sick and found out it was mono. Before I went to the doc I spent an entire week in bed doing nothing but running a fever. I couldn't eat or drink anything. To top it off I was taking asprin for the fever which is a biiiiig no no with mono because the liver enzymes are all outta whack and the asprin makes it worse. So I go into the doctor to get the blood test to confirm. Luckily my grandma was able to drive me, and I was so dehydrated my pee was dark brown. I had had a fever for a week and a half and that caused several vivid hallucinations. Anyway, they go to draw the blood at the doc and I pass out for a good couple minutes. They get the smelling salts and the next thing I know my nana is ripping the nurse a new one about how apparently she left me unattended when I was passed out. I haven't been anywhere near as sick since. I missed almost a month of work and really probably should have waited longer to go back. It was so rough.

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I ran out of my "meds" back when I was on the Tweedy type train and was in full on opiate withdrawals when it was time to hop a flight from Vegas back to Reagan National.
When my dope sick ass got up to 10,000 feet and the pressure or whatever started I turned to my girlfriend and said something like "I gotta get the fukk off this flight" and started pacing up and down the aisles as long as the attendant would allow it (this is post 9/11 mind you). I swear I thought I was gonna die for sure.
Luckily my brother met me with a "package" at the front gate and within 30 seconds I felt like I could run a marathon. That's how screwed up pills are so if youre thinking of eating a bottle of percocets or oxycontin or codeine and even Xanax. DO NOT DO IT! RUN RUN RUN!! ITS NOT LIKE OTHER DRUGS!!!!

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One time I spend day in Dane land. If this was not of an enough, it was all "pastry!", "pastry!" I had a fierce vomit. It is most evil of place for sure.

Welfare!

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thanks to boiling water burns on both my hands last year, 7 weeks in hospital last year. after i banged my head on the kitchen tiles when i collapsed from that, i got dizzy and woke up in intensive care. i liked one of the younger nurses though!.

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Since I've been watching Vikings on History II, this is how I picture Lotti:

 

vikings_lagertha_3-P.jpeg

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thanks to boiling water burns on both my hands last year, 7 weeks in hospital last year. after i banged my head on the kitchen tiles when i collapsed from that, i got dizzy and woke up in intensive care. i liked one of the younger nurses though!.

Damn. froggie! 

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