Thursday, January 13, 2011


Kevin is so much worse than we ever could have imagined.

Yesterday, the Urgent Care called. I didn’t pick up because I didn’t need them (but you can bet if I’m calling them, they should pick up). They called back at 8:15 last night. She said “you have a rare bacterial infection and the health department will be calling you.”


WHAT THE EFF? Are you serious?

I of course replied with “what! Am I going to die?” Urgent Care, ever so helpful, says back “ma’am, I am not a doctor. But the Health Dept. can answer any questions you may have.” You call me up at 8:15 at night and expect this NOT to freak me out? I immediately get off the phone and call my dad. For some reason, during urgent times, calling dad always seems like a good idea. He never makes things more urgent than they already are. Especially when you tell him you looked online and if this thing goes untreated, it could cause paralysis. He gives me the number for my childhood doctor (and good family friend so this really wasn’t that weird). I called Dr. Jack and explained to him my symptoms. Dr. Jack explains everything to me and talks me back to calm. He said getting this infection is about as likely as getting hit by a car. Also, did you know doctors have a database they can log into and get all the latest info on health issues? I asked, and it’s subscription based so technically, I could be my own doctor. And yours. But back to Kevin. We talk through what I had eaten and when and this and that. I got off the phone feeling much calmer. We had discussed whether or not I was contagious, and basically as long as I was washing my hands and not kissing anyone, I was fine.


So I called a boy I had recently been kissing, but no longer was kissing. I left him a voicemail telling him I had been diagnosed with a rare bacterial infection and because we had been eating at the same places, and kissing, and while it was highly unlikely he would catch anything, he needed to be aware in case he got sick. Talk about embarrassing. And he hasn’t called me back. Does this make me even less attractive? More psycho?

It’s called campylobacter. It means twisted bacteria. It’s caused from raw or undercooked food, or even cross contamination with chicken. I knew I shouldn’t have gone to camp. Gross. Oh, I forgot to mention that meanwhile, in the midst of all of this, my friend Todd brought over a special delivery. He had heard me lamenting my VCR was kaput and he brought over his VCR and about 10 manly VHS tapes. My excitement of the VCR fueled my craziness last night. Needless to say, I’m exhausted from such an emotional night. But, I am so much more dateable now that I have manly movies. Just ignore my Kevylobacter and come kiss me.


  1. Honey, campylobacter is by no means rare. Just not something we deal with very frequently in the U.S. You got it from something you ate, and you'll be fine after a course of antibiotics...I know a gal who worked with it for her PhD work, and she called it 'the camps' worries! Glad "Kevin" is a simple fix :0)

  2. well this makes me feel better. the freakin' urgent care had me so concerned for my LIFE!