Streptococcus? More like JERKOCOCCOUS!

Hi guys. It's 4:30 am here on the East Coast, and I am reporting to you live from Jersey Shore University Medical Center in Neptune, NJ, home of questionable meals and workplace for the hot young nurses of Monmouth County.

It's been like five minutes since I made my 2016 resolution not to die this year and I've already almost broken it, goddammit. I'd assumed once I stopped eating an average of 9-14 bagels a week, my body would recover.

Unfortunately this turns out not to be the case. Instead, I am battling a serious bacterial infection, which is only cool for its' novelty. (As in, I haven't had one in months!) I guess my body knew I was bored of my usual hospitalizations for lupus and diabetes and decided to throw me off a bit.


Instead of my usual staph or MRSA, I have an infection called streptococcus in my blood stream. Bacteremia. This is the bacteria that usually just causes strep throat. But not for me. Because I don't do things half-ass. (Unless those things are homework, working out, or writing.)


My body goes BIG when it comes to infection. So the streptococcus bacteria is floating around in the old bod, like a murderer on a lazy raft in swim trunks, flowing through the veins of MY LIFE while I desperately cling to my IV pole as if it's the last life preserver on the planet. (Seriously. That's my vision of my infection. Just floating through the Runaway Rapids waterpark of my broken body. WATER SOOTHES ME, K?)

Here's what's going on, so I don't have to repeat this to relatives or friends or the press, or President Obama, should he become transfixed with my story of survival and want to hear more about it. Sorry, B.  You gonna have to read this shit like everybody else.

• So, I have the aforementioned streptococcus in my blood, which is dangerous AF.
  
  My mom helpfully told me that strep in the blood from pneumonia is what killed Jim Henson! Thanks, Mom! If Kermit's dad can bite it from this, how do I stand a chance? And what will be my legacy? Dumb Instagram photos of dumb nature with terrible hashtags? UGH.
• I almost didn't come in to the ER because of laziness and hatred of leaving my bed, but I had a terrible feeling that I was sicker than anyone thought, including my doctor.
  I'd been experiencing high blood pressure and heart rate, along with four weeks of fever. My fake doctor, a 4th year med student and one of my best friends from First Descents, threatened to kick my ass unless I went in. 
  

  

  She legit saved my life. Dammit, now I owe her something!

• I was OK when I got in, but then the blood cultures showed bacterium in my blood stream. I immediately googled it to find out that the type of strep I have is life-treatening. Group G is also responsible for those flesh-eating deaths, you know? The horror stories you hear about on the evening news and read about on Web MD at 4 am in a panic? No?
• I felt very reassured after Googling it. 
• The infectious disease doctors let me know that I could be here for 7-10 days, and on intravenous antiobiotics for 4-10 weeks if the virus has gone to my heart or done damage to any other major organs.
  When told this, I had a bit of a fit--by which I mean I sighed heavily and rolled my eyes and told them I have Hamilton tickets. Nothing is coming in between me and Hamilton. Even if I have to bring a visiting nurse with me to the Rodgers theater, I AM SEEING HAMILTON.
  

  
• The team is currently scouring my body for a source of infection, which means I've been felt up more in the past two days than in the past two months. And no, guys. You cannot trade lives with me.
• The source of the infection remains unclear and I am currently undergoing a battery of tests to see what could be causing it. 
• One possible explanation is the Harry Potter tattoo I got in London. I pray that this is not true as it will give my mother even more ammo in her fight against my tattoos. Plus Harry would never do me dirty like that.
  

  

So that is where we stand as of right now. I hope to know more soon and shall update all six of you as promised.

Thank you, as always, for your love and support as I attempt to survive a week in the hospital without painkillers.

Love,
Kelly