It turns out I may be the literal embodiment of the hippie anti-bigpharmacutical, pro "let thy food be thy medicine" ideology. Not only is all of my sustenance derived from non-violent methods (as plants don't feel pain), I am also apparently allergic to medicine. Since I was a baby, I've been allergic to penicillin and penicillin derived medicines, mostly amoxicillin. That's right; the drug that spearheaded Western medicine's dive into the taking a pill to cure your ails culture, my body rejects. And now the pattern is continuing.
I had been taking this new drug for about ten days, and two days ago my body up and decided, "hey, you've been doing well, but fuck you because damn the man," or something. So I woke up feeling not right: swollen lymph nodes, achy body, head ache, but no fever, so I went into work. I didn't feel like smoking or drinking coffee, so I knew I was definitely sick, but I figured it was a cold. After lunch, though, I noticed I had a really bad rash all over my chest. I took a Benadryl and went home. When I took a shower, I saw that the rash was all over my body, really puffy and itchy, and when I took my temperature again it was at 101 degrees. Not horribly high, but high enough to know that maybe I wasn't just getting a cold. Well, that and the horrible, horrible rash.
When I woke up the next day after sleeping for about 12 hours straight, I still had a fever, so I called into work. Thank god, because when I got to the hospital they couldn't take my blood pressure while I was standing because it had dropped so much. Next stop: emergency room. I've never been wheeled anywhere in a wheel chair before, which I thought was reserved for people who were really sick and pregnant women, so I was pretty embarrassed... but I guess I was one of those really sick people, having no blood pressure and all. After a couple of hours I was as good as new! Well, as good as slightly used with a few more scuff marks. Intravenously I got two kinds of antihistamines, a steroid, anti-nausea medication, and a liter of fluids. I also got a shot of epinephrine, or adrenaline for ye layfolk. So far, no adverse reactions to any of that. Not really looking forward to the bill.
Western medicine isn't all bad, but had I not been poisoned by it, I wouldn't have had to be saved by it, either. But my body refuses to believe in any benefit. I was taking a drug that could have really helped me and my state of life, but my body refuses to accept that. "All a person needs is to eat well and exercise. Have some hobbies, too, probably," it says. Next thing I know I'll be showing up at classes on how to make my own body wash out of weeds and hemp. I'll try to smoke a cigarette with one hand and the other will put it out. Maybe my body knows best, but damn if I can't have my vises. I may be one refused beer away from making my own clothes and smelling like patchouli for no reason at all.
I even have a hippie tattoo... oh god.
