Last Thursday night my doctor sent me to the emergency room. I was having a LOT of discomfort and running a fever. The fact that I felt so rotten at the time was what actually moved me to call the doctor instead of just blowing it off as an upset stomach. I'm glad I did. It seems that I got food poisoned somewhere along the line last week while my new kitchen was being installed. I had one week where instead of cooking simply for us as I usually do, we ate out every day. After waiting 6 days flat on my back for the hospital to turn up the exact bug that was bugging me, last evening my doctor told me they'd nailed it. I had Campylobacter, and I'd be hearing from the Health Department. The doctor changed the drug they'd been treating me with as that tricky bug seemed to be resistant to it and put me on something more likely to do the job.
Campy, (hey he's been crashing in my gut for the last week I can be familiar) seems to be most frequently caused by undercooked or contaminated chicken. Irony of ironies, I have eaten no chicken. It can also be caused by cutting raw chicken and then cutting something else with the same kitchen tools or on the same surface. Even washing chicken in a kitchen and splashing the water on something else aka my salad, can make one sick.I wash things around my house like a rabid raccoon. I've always got my hands under the faucet, and this whole business of washing chicken leads me to think more about this whole air-chilled chicken thing and how important that can be in preventing disease. Also, keeping ones' kitchen clean. So I guess there will be some follow up checks at the places I ate last week.
Meanwhile, My kitchen's in, but I'm out of it. Upstairs in bed, the new antibiotic tossing down the nail strips calling a halt to the high speed joy ride Campy's been having in my gut for the last week. Hoping to be back at work in my new kitchen very soon. Follow along on Twitter @kathygori