A very yucky post.

[siannan]

I didn't mention this earlier because I thought y'all would be disgusted. Then I remembered: I don't give a shit about your sensitive natures! Stop being such fucking delicate blossoms and revel in the muck!



Anyway.

There was this rumor back in the day that David Dinkins perspired so much in his sleep that he had to put a sponge on his mattress. Now, thanks to the various meds I take, I am also prone to nightsweats/hot flashes, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Until today.

I let J. tuck me into bed before he left for work, and popped two Nyquil and an extra Tylenol for good measure, since I had a whiplash headache from coughing and I wanted to sleep all day. I should also mention that I have cold extremities from low blood pressure, and this virus isn't helping me warm up any. So J. piled the blankies on me as usual. Good good. He left. I slept.

I woke up around 5pm, warm as toast. Lovely. Then I thought, huh, why am I...*squelching*? My ear tickled. I stuck an oddly pruney finger in it and found it was full of...water? wtf? I wiggled my feet. *splush splush*.

I thought I had wet the bed, but I had to piss like a racehorse so I knew that couldn't be it, besides, it was ALL OVER.

I sat bolt upright, and shrieked at the cold air penetrating my soaking-wet flannel nightie and freezing my back. I fought my way out of the thing and grabbed some slightly grubby (yet blissfully dry) clothes off the floor. I stumbled to the bathroom, took care of business, and stumbled back to the bed, which was...

NASTY. I am not exaggerating when I say that at least a gallon of fluid seeped from my pores while I slept. I guess my fever broke drowned like the Hoover Dam burst. I peeled back the blankets and segregated the dry from the moist, but stopped short of stripping the sheets because I absolutely hate fighting with fitted sheets and I was still dead tired and did I mention I have not eaten in three days? Then I bumbled into the office and called J., whimpering that I needed his help with laundry. Not until he got home did he realize the extent of the mischegas ("Jesus Christ, woman! SOAKING!").

I wanted to go back to bed, but I wasn't gonna chance sweating up the other side as well, regardless of the beauty of waterproof mattress covers (hooray!). So I dragged the best blanket from the dry pile and rolled myself into a ball on the sofa and watched Friends and shivered uncontrollably until he came home and gave me raspberry yogurt and put in two loads of wash and helped me get downstairs and into the shower where I cried because the hot water and lavender soap felt so good.

I wonder where Dinkins bought his sponge.

Comments

[fallofrain.livejournal.com]

Guh, truth be told I know the feeling. I'm a skinny little thing, and I have /no/ idea where the hell all the water came from. I've been having a lot of fevers lately thanks to my sinuses being infected (again and again) and I wake up occasionally with my blankets being soaked. @_@

It makes for a lot of laundry. Blarg. Hope you feel better soon, I feel your pain. :\ *snug*

[auntiesiannan.livejournal.com]

I have never woken up in this much sweat before. It was alarming. When I remake the bed I am putting some towels under the sheets on my side, just in case it happens again.

[surreality.livejournal.com]

I had this happen once, after my bad car accident. It jostled my system just enough, we guess, that I had a fever hovering around 104 for a full week since I picked something up at the hospital when I went to get x-rays. Bear in mind, I couldn't move. No, really, I couldn't move my back at all, because the muscles had seized up so horribly (and, truth be told, over ten years later, some of them have -still- not moved since) it hurt to stay in one position for long. The idiot chiropractor I was going to see at the time said I wasn't to take any more than three advil per day to deal with the pain and fever (this was not enough, and I really could have died), so it wasn't doing much.

Yet, in the delirium, one night, I heard the neighbor mumbling as he took his dog out for a midnight tinkle. I heard voices mumbling, then a dog howling, then the branches scratching against my window, and my addled brain put these disparate elements together to mean, "WEREWOLVES ARE BREAKING INTO MY BEDROOM OMG HELP!"

I ran into my parents' room, screaming about the werewolves at the window -- amusing, since I hadn't been able to walk all day from the pain, but panic is fun! -- and screeching until they let me sleep on their floor, which I did. (Ow. Oh, ow.) I soaked right through the /carpeting/ with sweat. Amusingly enough, after this, the fever pretty much broke. The werewolves at the window cured my fever, ayep.

I have yet to live this down. I don't think I ever, ever will.

[auntiesiannan.livejournal.com]

Help me rassle this comforter into the washine, will you? J. can never do it right.

See my post from a couple days ago about Nazi UFOs coming to waffle iron my tits.

[judecorp.livejournal.com]

Wow - I hope you feel better soon!

p.s. J is really sweet.

[swisscheesed.livejournal.com]

Feel better soon, Auntie! I know that drinking fluids seems to be counterproductive but that's probably a good idea since you're losing so much.

[drbagpipes.livejournal.com]

I've only had one fever break and not even in such a fantastic fashion, but it was pretty cool when I thought about it later.