Mystery Illness

Ok, it wasn't the flu. The doctor displayed the proof to me on her computer. She showed me x-rays and the results of the blood tests. Even with my vast experience watching Grey's Anatomy, the x-rays didn't make sense. Her translation: you don't have the flu, or a sinus infection, or anything else that's clearly discernible. She gave me the obligatory antibiotics and sent me on my way. I took her at her word and proceeded with life.

I worked. I rested. I checked my online dating email. I rested. Life still wasn't back to normal, but when I watched Nightline display horrendous victims of swine flu gasping for breath, I reminded myself that my substandard health could be much worse.

I didn't have a fever so I agreed to a few dates with men I met through the latest Internet dating site I had joined. I'll call the first guy Dave. Dave and I had the mandatory coffee date that progressed to dinner at a nice restaurant.




Attention neophytes: That's often how this works. If we "click" over coffee, then the date continues. If not, we are free to go our separate ways having only lost about 15 minutes of our time, and still enjoyed a nice cup of tea or java. It's a pretty good system...unless there is some disagreement about whether or not we click. Fortunately, Dave and I agreed that we did.

Flash forward to the restaurant. We sipped a full-bodied, red wine and discussed our backgrounds, our hopes, our dreams. I savored every bite of my Asian salad with marinated chicken and grilled shrimp. The mandarin orange slices added the perfect tartness to balance the rich blackberry smoothness of the wine….That night we captured the right mix of a cheekiness, sincerity, and intrigue. Dave and I agreed that we’d like to see each other again. A soft, yet sensual kiss on the cheek sealed the deal.

I still wasn't bringing my "A" game to the table. I frequently felt like I'd just run a marathon when I'd only climbed one short flight of stairs to my apartment. This was not my norm. I prided myself on my twice weekly dancing...both lessons and for fun. I hated this fatigue that restrained me now. I rested a lot. I missed a few days at work. But lacking any respectable symptoms, I pressed on when I could. ("Sorry, I can't possibly work today. I'm tired." What kind of symptom is that?)

Enter date number two. Marcus, who was a member of the same dating site, also belonged to a social group for singles that I attended. The group had a dance Friday night. As the dance coordinator, I arrived early to save tables. The band demanded high energy. A couple of beers and Marcus convinced me that I could keep up. I danced with others in the group, but it was looking into Marcus's eyes during the few slow dances that fixated me. His sense of rhythm inspired a gentle lead that made following a pleasure. We agreed that we'd like to get to know each other better.



Then I crashed. The next two days were divided between the sofa and my bed. I gave thanks for Campbell's microwavable soups. Marcus and Dave called daily to check on me. We spent time getting to know each other over the phone. I had to take notes since my brain was more than a little scrambled due to this mystery illness. A section of my spiral notebook was devoted to Dave and another section to Marcus.

By the third day, I had to call a girlfriend to go to the grocery store for me. Living alone can be hell in the best of times. This was not the best of times. She stayed and helped me out for several hours. I felt worse, but when I started having chest pains, I paid attention. It had been two years since I'd had a heart attack that culminated with a stent. (Yes, I'm much too young for that kind of nonsense.)

When I told Dave what was happening, he insisted that he drive me to the nearest ER. I didn't put up much of a fight. I knew what lay ahead, but I'm not sure he did. There were literally hours of lying around, testing, retesting, waiting ... and waiting some more.(Did I mention stabbing and re-stabbing to get a vein that would spew some blood?) After two grueling hours, I convinced Dave to go home and go to bed....he was literally falling asleep sitting up in the chair at my bedside.

Since I had a "history," they admitted me for more testing. Dave and I had arrived at the ER door at 10:30 PM. At 3:00 am, I was finally in a room....and in a tremendous amount of pain. The intake nurse on the floor asked me a battery of questions.

When he asked, "Do you have anxiety?" I couldn't hold back.

"Hell yes, I have anxiety. Wouldn't you have anxiety if you were poked with needles and left strapped to a hard bed for 4 and a half hours?"

He didn't dawdle on the remaining questions. (To be continued)

(Ava's website www.edatinginsight.com)