Life Unexpected: Seven Days in the Abyss

A week ago today I woke up the morning after a dinner party with my lips tingling and my feet itching. It was the start of one of those life-changing events that I never quite expect and would love to forgo, despite thinking myself an adventurous, go-with-it, kind of girl.

Now, seven days into it and feeling as though it will never end, I'm still sort of shaking my head and rolling my eyeballs. The fact is, I've been through more than my share of who-woulda-thunk-it, life-changing health events, and I frankly think I deserve a pass-go. (Yo, Gods - are you listening?)

Seven days ago, I experienced the sudden on set of Urticaria - commonly referred to as hives. Go ahead - laugh! I did ! It was annoying. I was going to lose a day of relative comfort. I was itchy and uncomfortable. I was ready to be over it on day one.

Little did I know that, within 24 hours, my lips, feet, and hands would grow hard, swell to painful levels, and feel as though they were burning. I didn't know large expanses of my skin would start to sprout patches of swelling lumps that made me want to dig into my skin with my fingernails to alleviate the painful itching sensation.

Within 48 hours, my earlobes had swelled and become beet-red and the skin on my lips started to peel. My eyebrows swelled, and then expanded down the right side of my face, enclosing my eye, my cheek, my jawline, in swollen tissue. The bones and joints in my body started to ache, my vision was completely blurred, my heart was beating out of my chest, and I started experiencing contractions and pain in my throat. My stomach and intestines felt as though they were swollen. Drinking and eating caused painful contractions in my chest and back. The itching was interminable.

Seven days now, and as I write this, I feel as though there is a metal pipe holding me erect from my chest to my jaw, and another from shoulder to shoulder. At the intersection is a painful lump that takes my breath away. I feel like my internal organs are packed tightly within my body. My toes are burning. My shoulder and chest are flush with hives. The medication I took this morning is starting to wear off but I can't take anymore until tomorrow. I'll soak in a bath for awhile to find some relaxation, and take an antihistamine to try to bring some sleep.

I have done nothing productive now, for seven days.

Evidently, most people who experience Urticaria never find out the cause. I've been through a dozen possibilities - fish, cleaning solvents, soy, wine, limes, radishes, fruit. There was nothing unusual. Whatever this is, it's from something that appears as benign as the water I drink and the air that I breathe. From what I've read and heard, I might be near the end of this episode, or it could become chronic. I might have a similar episode in the future, though if I can identify the cause, I can perhaps avoid the source.

I suppose there are worse things to experience in this life. There are worse diseases and conditions. Though I consider this to be quite serious in the scheme of things, it isn't life threatening. Perhaps the worst of it is that I'm now reminded of what it's like to have a serious illness with never-ending symptoms and consequences, medications that can either make you feel better or far worse, a lack of answers that makes you feel helpless.

Or, perhaps the worst of it is that I haven't been able to function in the roles I typically perform - mother, wife, volunteer, friend. My sole accomplishment these past seven days has been to keep my mind occupied so that my discomfort doesn't rule me. Too much movement makes me dizzy; physical activity makes me weak. I've remained stoic, frustrated because I'm expected to remain strong while still getting the message across that I'm extraordinarily uncomfortable.

I hope tomorrow brings relief. I may pray for it, though I think that prayers invoke more from what is within than any divine source of health or relief. I hope I can laugh about this in a few weeks, and that my sense of humor will return. I hope my marriage and my beautiful girls can sustain my lack of participation in life at the moment.

I'm ready to be well again.