Something happened as a result of all the moving stress. Something odd, and painful. It's ugly, annoying and it shocked me to the core.
I have bad hair.
Oh, and shingles.
We moved in with my parents over the weekend, and made several (hundred) trips back and forth to our old house for stuff we left behind. The kids had to adjust. I had to adjust. Hubby had to leave Monday morning for a business trip to Arizona.
All was well and good while we were watching the Superbowl. We were eating and drinking and being merry. I was happy to be mostly out of our old house, but still a little stressed about finishing up the next day with cleaning and more trips of stuff.
That evening, in between bites of Subway, I asked my mom to look at my stomach. I thought I was getting hives from being allergic to her dog.
I'm allergic to many animals, but usually not dogs. They might make my eyes itch but hives are for cats and rabbits and other dander animals. Still, I took a swig of children's allergy medicine and hit the sack.
After cleaning up Monday morning at the old house, I ran to Target to calm the nerves. I had strange pains and I was feeling itchy. I peeked under my sweater and noticed my "hive" was now swollen and red and looked like poison ivy.
What on Earth?
That night I asked my mom to look at my stomach, and now the side of my back. She gasped. She told me I have shingles.
Shingles? Isn't that for old people?
Apparantly, it's not just for "old people." Yesterday morning, I saw a doctor who confirmed the shingles and told me several times I will be in "a lot of pain."
He looked at me like I didn't understand. I must have been smiling too much because he told me again about the pain. I nodded and told him I understood. He told me to rest, to take my medicine and to see him in three days. He prescribed awful giant antiviral pills I have to take five times a day.
Yes, five times. I also have pain medicine and topical cream for these gorgeous rash patches.
This morning, I am understanding more about the pain. I am taking my medicine, and resting as best I can.
Oh, and my Hubby flew in from Arizona.
What a doll.
I am now off to bed, after taking my medicine of course.
I have bad hair.
Oh, and shingles.
We moved in with my parents over the weekend, and made several (hundred) trips back and forth to our old house for stuff we left behind. The kids had to adjust. I had to adjust. Hubby had to leave Monday morning for a business trip to Arizona.
All was well and good while we were watching the Superbowl. We were eating and drinking and being merry. I was happy to be mostly out of our old house, but still a little stressed about finishing up the next day with cleaning and more trips of stuff.
That evening, in between bites of Subway, I asked my mom to look at my stomach. I thought I was getting hives from being allergic to her dog.
I'm allergic to many animals, but usually not dogs. They might make my eyes itch but hives are for cats and rabbits and other dander animals. Still, I took a swig of children's allergy medicine and hit the sack.
After cleaning up Monday morning at the old house, I ran to Target to calm the nerves. I had strange pains and I was feeling itchy. I peeked under my sweater and noticed my "hive" was now swollen and red and looked like poison ivy.
What on Earth?
That night I asked my mom to look at my stomach, and now the side of my back. She gasped. She told me I have shingles.
Shingles? Isn't that for old people?
Apparantly, it's not just for "old people." Yesterday morning, I saw a doctor who confirmed the shingles and told me several times I will be in "a lot of pain."
He looked at me like I didn't understand. I must have been smiling too much because he told me again about the pain. I nodded and told him I understood. He told me to rest, to take my medicine and to see him in three days. He prescribed awful giant antiviral pills I have to take five times a day.
Yes, five times. I also have pain medicine and topical cream for these gorgeous rash patches.
This morning, I am understanding more about the pain. I am taking my medicine, and resting as best I can.
Oh, and my Hubby flew in from Arizona.
What a doll.
I am now off to bed, after taking my medicine of course.
I have bad hair.
Oh, and shingles.
We moved in with my parents over the weekend, and made several (hundred) trips back and forth to our old house for stuff we left behind. The kids had to adjust. I had to adjust. Hubby had to leave Monday morning for a business trip to Arizona.
All was well and good while we were watching the Superbowl. We were eating and drinking and being merry. I was happy to be mostly out of our old house, but still a little stressed about finishing up the next day with cleaning and more trips of stuff.
That evening, in between bites of Subway, I asked my mom to look at my stomach. I thought I was getting hives from being allergic to her dog.
I'm allergic to many animals, but usually not dogs. They might make my eyes itch but hives are for cats and rabbits and other dander animals. Still, I took a swig of children's allergy medicine and hit the sack.
After cleaning up Monday morning at the old house, I ran to Target to calm the nerves. I had strange pains and I was feeling itchy. I peeked under my sweater and noticed my "hive" was now swollen and red and looked like poison ivy.
What on Earth?
That night I asked my mom to look at my stomach, and now the side of my back. She gasped. She told me I have shingles.
Shingles? Isn't that for old people?
Apparantly, it's not just for "old people." Yesterday morning, I saw a doctor who confirmed the shingles and told me several times I will be in "a lot of pain."
He looked at me like I didn't understand. I must have been smiling too much because he told me again about the pain. I nodded and told him I understood. He told me to rest, to take my medicine and to see him in three days. He prescribed awful giant antiviral pills I have to take five times a day.
Yes, five times. I also have pain medicine and topical cream for these gorgeous rash patches.
This morning, I am understanding more about the pain. I am taking my medicine, and resting as best I can.
Oh, and my Hubby flew in from Arizona.
What a doll.
I am now off to bed, after taking my medicine of course.
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