February 25, 2008

• The Immune Function Follies

  I have a wonderful and marvelous immune system.  I marvel over it and wonder about it all the time.  Today, I’m wondering whether yesterday’s high fever, rattling unproductive cough, all-over bodily discomfort and disquieting delirium were the result of my immune system’s having mobilized to battle some new microorganism, or whether it was just one of those little ME/CFIDS blips, the immune system kicking into high gear for no apparent reason.

  The spelled-out version of the “ID” portion of the extended abbreviation of ME is, “immunodysfunction.”  This crazy immune system of mine has its redeeming features.  I have always
  been told I “heal fast.”  Cuts and bruises clear up quickly.  I get
  over traumatic injuries faster than most people.  If you don’t have an autoimmune disorder, let me tell you, it can be more than just painful and scary, it can be baffling.  I won’t go into general details.  Anyone who is interested can find the symptom list at the link above.

  I felt like crap warmed over, yesterday morning when I wrote about going out with my camera the day before.   As Doug cleaned out the wood stove, I watched.  I noticed about that time that something new had been added to my chest sounds.  The wheeze was still there, but it was masked by a loud, crackling rattle.  Coughing just hurt my throat and diaphragm, didn’t do much besides that.

  When it came time for him to start a new fire, he needed guidance and supervision, but first I had to convince him of that.  Finally, with paper and kindling placed just so, the fire took off just fine, without filling the house with smoke or going out.  I managed to convince him to hang around and watch it so he could add wood as necessary, but my mind was only partially on that task.

  I’d had enough clues to make it obvious I had a fever:  sensations of heat alternating with chills, frequent need to pee, and that tight ache in my head, to name a few.  I knew I needed to force down fluids, and I did so, despite the discouraging fact that each trip from the bed to the bedside potty and back got me perilously out of breath.  I was taking the nebulizer with me on each of those trips, pausing several times along the way to catch my breath.  I was miserable and getting more so by the moment.

  In midafternoon, I got out the fever thermometer, just for curiosity’s sake, and to have something to tell the paramedics if they asked.  I don’t know how accurate that reading was, 101.4, orally, because my nose was totally blocked and I couldn’t breathe with my mouth shut.  After two temp readings a few hours apart, indicating a slight rise in my temperature, I just sat there, let the fever rise and the delirious scenes play across the screen of my mind.

  The thought of food was repugnant, but I knew I didn’t want to add hypoglycemic symptoms to the rest, so I asked Doug to bring me some liquids with nutritional value.  When Greyfox called, I sniveled and whined a while.  Doug was asleep and I wasn’t sure whether I’d sleep or not.  I didn’t feel that I had any control over that.  The fire needed tending, so I asked Greyfox to call back in two hours just in case I fell asleep.  He did that.  I hadn’t slept, but Doug was still asleep and unresponsive to my calls.  I told Greyfox I’d call him back in a moment, hung up, picked up the cordless handset, and used the phone-finder klaxon button on the base unit to wake Doug.

  When I called Greyfox back, I whined and sniveled some more, and we got into a discussion of suicide, with me saying it didn’t seem like the appropriate solution, and him offering practical suggestions of how and where to do it.  He didn’t want to do the callback again for the fire watch, so I said good night, hung up, told Doug to bring out the kitchen timer and set it, and went back to just sitting in between potty expeditions.  At some point, I fell asleep.

  I am not whining and sniveling today.  I’m crabby, which I have been told is a sign I’m healing.  I don’t need the thermometer to tell me the fever is down but not out.  Right now, I’m on my way back to bed because it is just too far from here to the pot for me to want to do yet another of those treks.  Be well, if you can.  If not, be yourself.

  P.S.  RaineWalker asked about my new profile pic, “How is it there’s no gray in your red locks?”

  Look again.  There is a streak over my temple, and another over my ear.  Those are not sun streaks.  The sun’s not intense enough at this latitude to do much bleaching, and I am seldom out in it.  The streaks aren’t really gray and probably never will be.  In this family, we don’t go gray, we go pink.

  

  • 4:11 pm
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