So I guess that means it was just a Friday. A Friday in which I drove 150 miles by myself to go here.
Thanks to Dr. Google, I was pretty sure yesterday morning that the rash, pain, and general ickiness that had been coming upon me for a few days was shingles.
My knowledge of shingles was exactly zero up until yesterday morning's self-diagnosing computer session. Except for the fact that I was pretty sure only old people got it, and I do not actually consider myself old at 38 years of age.
Turns out, more and more adults are getting shingles in their thirties. Nice to know I'm not alone, I guess.
Anyway, diagnosing myself online was all well and good, but getting the antiviral medication that is used to lessen and shorten the progression of the virus was another, more complicated matter. Because the nearest pharmacy is a 75-mile drive from our house. So was the doctor.
Thankfully, the clinic could get me in at 3 p.m., so I gave myself extra time in case of getting lost--seeing as I hadn't ever been to this small city, and I am very good at getting lost--and started driving.
At least I can always count on dramatic scenery.
I didn't get lost, and I did get there early. So I got to go to the grocery store before my appointment, which is actually unreasonably exciting for me*. I also, despite my less-than-stellar physical condition, kind of enjoyed the drive, if only because I was by myself. No kids demanding water bottles or anything. Just me and Johnny Cash rolling along in the wide open spaces.
I also treated myself to a Sonic milkshake while I was waiting for the crazy-busy pharmacy to fill my prescription. It was gratifyingly thick--I don't see the point in thin milkshakes; why not just drink flavored milk?--but the "chocolate" label was a bit misleading. Sonic needs to step up its chocolate milkshakes with some actual chocolate ice cream instead of vanilla with an anemic squirt of chocolate sauce.
I returned five and a half hours after leaving, in possession of the precious prescription. So now I just have to tough it out for a few days, at which point the doctor promised me the symptoms would be greatly reduced.
* If you are wondering how I manage to grocery shop and get perishables home when they have to sit in the car for hours: A giant marine cooler is always in residence in the back of the van, and a big bag of ice stays in the freezer to be put in the cooler when I leave. The cooler is insulating enough that the ice bag had barely melted after four hours, and so we just keep re-using the same bag of ice.