We kept telling the restaurant "no mushrooms." The waiter and even the manager kept insisting there were "no mushrooms" in the egg roll I'd just eaten -- even after we showed them the huge shiitake cap from it. They kept insisting the shiitake was a tree ear (ha!).
Brett Glass gave me two Benadryl capsules to pop, and Mary Creasey whisked me to PAMC's Urgent Care (faster, better, and cheaper than a hospital emergency room, and it was early enough I could go there). I was released only after being injected with solumedrol, benadryl, and three needles of epinephrine -- and strict orders to immediately fill the prescriptions I'd been given. This doctor gave no reassurances I'd be okay.
The worst of the prescriptions is prednisone. That stuff is nasty. We're talking PMS in a pill. I've been extra niggly about monitoring my diet because prednisone tends to cause really nasty mood swings, and right now I can't afford that. It also trashes your sleep patterns. I've already got a con and contracts doing that to me...plus what's about to happen to Warren.
Tomorrow I haul Warren to San Francisco so he can get 29 electrodes attached for a 24-hour EEG. He will have a button to push when one of his seizures is starting so they can compare data to what goes on in his system. He has told me I'll likely have to stay up and monitor him. So much for sleep....
Sunday, of course, is my radio shift. I take him back to SF Saturday to get the electrodes removed. I then get a little time to maybe sleep. Then I have to be minty-fresh from noon to 6pm for the time I'm on air.
Somewhere in the midst of all this I have contracts to wrap up.