The Life of a Southern Girl

Am I the first to say it? We're not hearing too much from Dracula these days. Anyone wondering why? Well, I'm thinking he didn't pay attention to that red streak crawling up his arm.

Anyway, I'm a bartender. I nick my fingers (accidentally, of course) with knives while I'm cutting fruit; broken glass while I'm picking up after you people that should have gone home already, etc. In light of all that; I am very diligent about keeping my hands clean. I am compulsively washing my hands, or at the very least; using that "waterless" hand wash stuff. All the time. I've been in the business a long time. I've seen what infection can do.

I'm also very compulsive about having nice hands. When I go out to dinner and the person serving me has chewed on nails, broken cuticles, or, God Forbid (!); dirt under their nails; I freak. Now, I know this person has not personally prepared my food; but, it's all about presentation.

I have very nice hands. I go to great lengths to keep them that way. I have a manicure once a week & a polish change once a week.

Anyway, I noticed several weeks ago that there was a white streak down the middle of my left thumbnail. The nail was separating from the nail bed. This is affectionately known as "nail rot" in the business. Your nails are always subject to water, alcohol. If you don't take care; you lose a nail. It's very common, but it's NEVER HAPPENED TO ME. Because I take all these extra measures.

So, I'm extra sure I'm keeping my hands clean. Then, last Wednesday night, I wake up in the middle of the night with my left thumb THROBBING. So much so; I can't sleep the rest of the night. I get up, go to work, it feels better. About 5pm; for whatever reason; I notice a very distinct red line running up the inside of my arm up to my elbow. I show it to a friend of mine & SHE freaks. "Omg! You have blood poisoning! Are you Ok? Do you feel like passing out?" Just for the record: Linda, you are not welcome to attend my tattoo update.

I go to the doctor immediately, and, yes; I have "Cellulitis" (sp?).

Apparently, this is nothing to fuck around with. It's one of those illnesses that just kills you for no other reason than you were just stupid not to recognize the symptoms.

I get a shot and antibiotics. I'm told to look for certain things. If any of these happen; I'm to go straight to the ER. Fever, chills, shortness of breath. I'm also supposed to watch the red streak up my arm to make sure it doesn't go any higher.

I go home and spend the rest of the night 1) taking my temp every 10 minutes, 2) trying to distinquish if I'm having chills or it's just fucking cold in here, and 3) paying attention to every breath I take. "Have I always breathed like this? Am I taking short breaths? Who stole all the oxygen in the room???"

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It's Saturday & I'm still alive. I never had any doubt, but, damn; that was pretty scary. Yeah, it was scary.

peace