at 10 AM i woke up to discover the knee was roughly the size of a grapefruit. And walking was really no longer an option.
So I call the infectious disease people, who said i was to call if anything horrible happened this weekend because of the Unnamed Virus of Fever and Rash, in order to find out if this counted as weird enough. After finally tracking down the doctor on call and explaining the entire week's disease in a few minutes, he said i should just come in so he could see what the hell i was talking about.
So Ellen drives me to the ER, where they roll me around in a wheelchair a bit, then the right guy eventually shows up, and asks me the same hundred million questions everybody else has all week, seems perplexed about the pustules on my palms and feet, pokes my knee a bit (OWFUCK) and then disappears, no doubt to inquire of the internet what it is that i have, because nobody knows.
note that this has all been the same disease from fever monday, to grapefruit knee friday.
he returns to say "well it might be (some jumble of letters that ends in 17). There's nothing we can do it if it is, but this knee thing might happen from time to time in that case. I want to drain some stuff out of your knee (O.O) and draw some blood (>.<)"
Now, this is the fourth day in a row they have drawn blood from me, and due either to the disease or to the cowardice of my blood vessels, they haven't been able to find a vein in either arm any of the four times, so they keep taking it out of the back of my hands.
Meanwhile, the doctor returns with the BIGGEST SYRINGE I HAVE EVER SEEN. (you might want to skip this paragraph if you aren't all about graphic knee draining). apparently topical anesthetic is not good enough, so there's some painful gripping of the knee and stabbing about within with a needle. So i'm not really sure what he numbed, because then the Big Fucking Syringe goes in and i begin to weep like a baby. The man proceeds to drain a frightningly florescent yellow liquid from my knee, roughly the volume of two C batteries.
"Should it be that color?" I manage in between sobs. "Not really," he answers.
so then they gave me crutches and sent me home, with the advice 'take some advil'. the end.