Infections

During my week off, when I was supposed to be resting, I got a urinary tract infection. It started slowly one afternoon, with a weird tingling sensation when I went to the toilet. But within hours it got worse. Soon I needed to use the toilet every half hour. That increased to every twenty minutes, then every ten through the evening. By midnight I moved myself to a sofa in the family room so I could have access to the toilet quickly. The night went on forever. As soon as I got back to the sofa I would feel the urge to go again and each time I went, it felt as though every nerve ending was on fire. It was like I stuck a wet finger in an electric socket every time I sat on the toilet. It was excruciating. Usually a “wait and see” sort of person, by 4am I had a complete change of heart. I couldn’t wait for the night to be over so I could go to the doctor’s. The next morning I called as soon as the doctor’s office was open at 8.30am and got an appointment soon after. I used the toilet at home, at the mall across from the doctor’s and at the doctor’s office before I got in to see anyone. I was in agony. A quick test showed a definite infection and quite a bit of blood in the urine. Although I had never had a urinary tract infection before, the doctor did not give me the impression that there was anything unusual about it. She didn’t ask any questions or offer any advice. She prescribed a course of antibiotics to take and as my health improved, I thought nothing more of it.   

I started correspondence with my cousin in America. It fuelled my excitement and longing for the adventure to come. Although the weeks would be structured rather than spontaneous, the trip still gave me a sense of freedom and flight. I wired my cousin the money to buy a car. I began living in two worlds. In New Zealand I was a sick, overtired, overworked woman. But in America I would be Thelma or Louise, driving down the four-lane highways with the wind in my hair. My time would be my own. I hadn’t had that in more than twenty-six years. Nothing was going to get in my way.

The following week I went back to work but I struggled to get up in the morning. Even after ten hours of sleep all I wanted to do was stay under the covers. It was like I was hearing the alarm clock from a deep pit that I couldn’t climb out of. When I did get myself to work, I was impatient with the day care children. I looked at my watch constantly and wanted to leave as soon as I arrived. Where I normally got involved in activities, volunteered to oversee lunch or change nappies, now I stood and watched, too tired to chase after the children. I carried wads of tissue in my pocket to try and cover up my now daily nose bleeds. It was usually just a small amount of blood but it always came on suddenly and ran quickly. There would be no sign of anything unusual then in the next moment my lips would be covered in a trickle of warm liquid. I would grab a tissue and quickly dab at the drips, hoping no one had seen. On top of the exhaustion and bleeding, my body was changing. Over the next ten days my stomach got so bloated I looked pregnant. Nothing I ate or drank or any exercise I did could counteract what was happening in my gut. I had to wear elastic wasted pants and belts to try and hide my huge stomach.