I had the flu once and had a fever of 102.5 for two weeks. Every time the fever broke, it came back and I would sweat a ton. I had to change my clothes and sheets several times a day, and I got super dehydrated to the point I got dizzy when I stood up. All of the foods I usually liked tasted disgusting, and I had absolutely no desire to eat or drink anything (though I forced myself to anyway). I had non stop terrible head and body aches, I couldn't breathe through my nose, and I was exhausted but couldn't sleep. I missed so much school that I had to retake all but one class online over the summer. I wash my hands like crazy now and make sure to take a multi vitamin, especially during flu season.
What's the sickest you've ever been?
- Thread starter SockHead
- Start date
honeyblossom
🍃🌿🍂🌻🌸🌷
Strap in, this is a long one. Content warning for blood and vomit.
When I was 14 I got mononucleosis around the end of September. I didn't get sick until late October and remember sitting out Halloween because I was just so tired, which is how it started. I was just tired all the time. I was still sick all through November and didn't eat much on Thanksgiving and slept through most of it. After that I began to get worse, I was running constant high fevers, unable to sleep but unable to be awake. The lymph node in my neck on the right side swelled to the size of a golf ball and my parents finally took me to the doctor a few days after Thanksgiving. They gave me a rapid strep and blood test and it turned out I had strep throat on top of the mono.
I should preface this next part, the doctor I was seeing as a child did not like me. I had (still have) a lot of medical problems that she couldn't diagnose. After years of tests and no diagnosis, she finally came to the conclusion that I was lying and had slowly convinced my parents that it was likely all in my head, since there was hardly any physical evidence to back up what I was claiming. Anyways, that's all a story for another question. I just wanted to convey that this woman literally hated me.
When we got the test back she asked my parents if they thought I'd be able to swallow antibiotics in pill form. She didn't ask me, the person with the throat that would be doing the swallowing, but my parents. I asked if they could give me a shot or syrup, but she ignored me and my parents agreed that I could take the pills, since the doctor practically gave them no other option. Well, two severe throat infections make it nearly impossible to swallow water, let alone a pill these giant horse pills. Every day I'd try to take them and every time they'd get stuck and I'd cough them back up or throw them up. By the middle of December, I was just getting worse and worse. I could barely get out of bed, I was running a fever of 104 almost continuously. At that point I'd lost around 35 lbs, since I couldn't eat. I remember my dad coming in with my medication and at that point I didn't even want to try because I knew what would happen and I was so tired of throwing up because it was only making my throat worse. And he literally started crying. He hugged me and begged me to take it because he knew I was dying. I took it and threw it up.
By Christmas I had stopped eating and drinking almost entirely. I was so out of it as I watched TV on the couch Christmas night, while my parents left to visit family. I remember feeling this overwhelming sense of something being very wrong. And then I started to throw up, and there were these phone sized sheets of dried blood floating on top of fresh blood and clear fluid. We later learned that it was from my throat being so torn up from the infection that it was just continuously bleeding into my stomach at all times. I was so delirious after, barely able to call my parents. I begged them to come home, begged them to believe me that something was wrong. I passed out a little after they got me home and woke up in the waiting room where they admitted me far more quickly than I've ever been admitted.
I only remember a little bit from the hospital, the doctors running around me, needles poking everywhere, the shot of penicillin they delivered stealthily to me left butt cheek that hurt for a week after. They started morphine and fluids almost immediately. The only thing I remember hearing them say was that I was lucky, that I was only days away from dying from how dehydrated and starving I was. The strep throat had turned into Scarlet Fever like I was living in 1919.
After the penicillin, a vicodin prescription, and actual real sleep, food and fluids, I was able to start to recover in just a week. A single week. If the doctor had just given me a shot right then and there in the office, I would have been fine.
And this is the story of how I developed my distrust and anxiety for doctors and public drinking fountains.
TL;DR: I got Scarlet Fever like a 1900s Edwardian child, but lived to tell the tale.
When I was 14 I got mononucleosis around the end of September. I didn't get sick until late October and remember sitting out Halloween because I was just so tired, which is how it started. I was just tired all the time. I was still sick all through November and didn't eat much on Thanksgiving and slept through most of it. After that I began to get worse, I was running constant high fevers, unable to sleep but unable to be awake. The lymph node in my neck on the right side swelled to the size of a golf ball and my parents finally took me to the doctor a few days after Thanksgiving. They gave me a rapid strep and blood test and it turned out I had strep throat on top of the mono.
I should preface this next part, the doctor I was seeing as a child did not like me. I had (still have) a lot of medical problems that she couldn't diagnose. After years of tests and no diagnosis, she finally came to the conclusion that I was lying and had slowly convinced my parents that it was likely all in my head, since there was hardly any physical evidence to back up what I was claiming. Anyways, that's all a story for another question. I just wanted to convey that this woman literally hated me.
When we got the test back she asked my parents if they thought I'd be able to swallow antibiotics in pill form. She didn't ask me, the person with the throat that would be doing the swallowing, but my parents. I asked if they could give me a shot or syrup, but she ignored me and my parents agreed that I could take the pills, since the doctor practically gave them no other option. Well, two severe throat infections make it nearly impossible to swallow water, let alone a pill these giant horse pills. Every day I'd try to take them and every time they'd get stuck and I'd cough them back up or throw them up. By the middle of December, I was just getting worse and worse. I could barely get out of bed, I was running a fever of 104 almost continuously. At that point I'd lost around 35 lbs, since I couldn't eat. I remember my dad coming in with my medication and at that point I didn't even want to try because I knew what would happen and I was so tired of throwing up because it was only making my throat worse. And he literally started crying. He hugged me and begged me to take it because he knew I was dying. I took it and threw it up.
By Christmas I had stopped eating and drinking almost entirely. I was so out of it as I watched TV on the couch Christmas night, while my parents left to visit family. I remember feeling this overwhelming sense of something being very wrong. And then I started to throw up, and there were these phone sized sheets of dried blood floating on top of fresh blood and clear fluid. We later learned that it was from my throat being so torn up from the infection that it was just continuously bleeding into my stomach at all times. I was so delirious after, barely able to call my parents. I begged them to come home, begged them to believe me that something was wrong. I passed out a little after they got me home and woke up in the waiting room where they admitted me far more quickly than I've ever been admitted.
I only remember a little bit from the hospital, the doctors running around me, needles poking everywhere, the shot of penicillin they delivered stealthily to me left butt cheek that hurt for a week after. They started morphine and fluids almost immediately. The only thing I remember hearing them say was that I was lucky, that I was only days away from dying from how dehydrated and starving I was. The strep throat had turned into Scarlet Fever like I was living in 1919.
After the penicillin, a vicodin prescription, and actual real sleep, food and fluids, I was able to start to recover in just a week. A single week. If the doctor had just given me a shot right then and there in the office, I would have been fine.
And this is the story of how I developed my distrust and anxiety for doctors and public drinking fountains.
TL;DR: I got Scarlet Fever like a 1900s Edwardian child, but lived to tell the tale.
0019293893
Senior Member
Probably when I got the flu and I had fever and chills and started hallucinating. I couldn’t stop throwing up, and it got to the point where I was just throwing up bile and I couldn’t even keep water down. My dad took me to the doctor and I could barely get in the room and kept throwing up in trash cans.
I also got super sick from food poisoning in india and I repeatedly alternated between ****ting myself and blasting the toilet and throwing up everywhere.
I also got super sick from food poisoning in india and I repeatedly alternated between ****ting myself and blasting the toilet and throwing up everywhere.
AndroGhostX
Gomen Ne...
Edit: I do remember now that I did get Mono which sucked because I was just always so tired, and it lasted for a month or so.
Last edited:
RedTropicalPeachyFish
GMT+9
I was heavy AUD at some point in the past, that I was constrained to get over it, haaaahahaha! (@v@; Would that count?
Christmas 2012. It was my senior year of high school, and I was doing my work experience at a local activity center for kids over my winter break. Since I needed to get 90 hours of work in within the two weeks of my break, and they were closed on Christmas Day, I pretty much had to work every other day to meet the requirement.
About a week into my work experience, I caught a nasty flu from one of my co-workers. I wasn’t throwing up, but my throat felt like daggers. My voice was the raspiest it’s even been, to the point that I could barely talk. I was exhausted, my head was eternally pounding and fuzzy, and I had full body aches. I probably had a temperature as well.
But. I had to make that 90 hour requirement. So every day, I dragged my sick butt out of bed and made the hour-long public transit commute to the activity center, where I cheerfully explained science to small succeptible children with a voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard while trying not to pass out. I’d then come home and immediately go to bed. I completely slept through Christmas Day that year - didn’t get out of bed once. When all the full-time staff were hungover and grumpy on New Year’s Day, I was equally smashed, having gone to bed at 5:00 p.m. the night before.
I did end up making my 90 hours. To all the small kids who inevitably got the flu from me, I apologize.
About a week into my work experience, I caught a nasty flu from one of my co-workers. I wasn’t throwing up, but my throat felt like daggers. My voice was the raspiest it’s even been, to the point that I could barely talk. I was exhausted, my head was eternally pounding and fuzzy, and I had full body aches. I probably had a temperature as well.
But. I had to make that 90 hour requirement. So every day, I dragged my sick butt out of bed and made the hour-long public transit commute to the activity center, where I cheerfully explained science to small succeptible children with a voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard while trying not to pass out. I’d then come home and immediately go to bed. I completely slept through Christmas Day that year - didn’t get out of bed once. When all the full-time staff were hungover and grumpy on New Year’s Day, I was equally smashed, having gone to bed at 5:00 p.m. the night before.
I did end up making my 90 hours. To all the small kids who inevitably got the flu from me, I apologize.
Last edited:
ThomasHasntPlayedAC
I need a username change.
I haven't gotten a cold in 5 years, and this one hit me like what Deadpool does to the fourth wall.
ali.di.magix
🌟 Semi-hiatus 🌟
The sickest I've been was a few years back when I was about 14 with the chicken pox. I somehow managed to avoid getting them from other kids when I was younger and got it off my younger brother. It come on so suddenly. I was having a sleepover with my friends for my 14th birthday and I woke up the next morning covered in blister-like spots all over my chest and arms. I got up and went to the bathroom to discover this and almost passed out while washing my hands. My head was spinning so much and I felt incredibly nauseous, I only just managed to make it to my bedroom and collapsed on my bed. I remember calling out to my mum for help but she didn't believe how sick I was feeling initially xD After that day more spots started appearing all over my body; on my arms, legs, stomach and face. But the face wasn't the worst part, I even had spots in my mouth and down my throat. Because of this I could barely speak and I couldn't eat anything at all, so I was living off those liquid breakfast drinks since it was too painful to eat anything solid. Not that I wanted to eat much anyway, because I completely lost my appetite (which barely happens when I'm sick). Over the course of 2 weeks I think I lost up to 8kg (17 pounds) because of not eating anything. Then on top of that just the general fatigue, fever and inability to do anything really. I was in bed for about 2 weeks and took 3 weeks off school. It was absolutely awful, I've still got scars on my body that I wish I could get rid off :/
xSuperMario64x
Canadian at heart 💜🇨🇦
Well I had 2 cases of pneumonia, one when I was less than a year old, and the other when I was 4. The second time I had it was the worst; my parents told me that if I had been born earlier than 1999 and there wasn't sufficient medicine to deal with it, I prob would've died .-.
Cazqui
∀З⊥əʁ
Last year, I was at work and felt like i wanted to die. On top of already being massively depressed i didn't really seek any help, and just wallowed through it until I finally got off and passed out in my car. it went away after a few days and i felt better.
Similar threads
