So remember the whole bit where I was sick for most of February and got the flu and everything? Yeah, those were good times. Turns out (and I totally didn’t know this), the flu is the gateway drug to bronchitis! Apparently, if you have the flu and an infection gets into your bronchial tubes or some such silliness, then you get bronchitis. The only upside of bronchitis that I can tell so far (this is my first experience with it) is that it isn’t pneumonia. Because if you let bronchitis have its way with your body, it will invite pneumonia along to play. So… Yay!! I have bronchitis.
Flash back to earlier this week when I wasn’t feeling too dandy. I’d been complaining all along that I still wasn’t feeling 100%. Maybe more like 90-95%. Then that dropped to something like 75%. Eventually, 75% started to look like the shining example of health. The fever, the cough and unbearable chest congestion… The only problem was that neither was improving. Instead, each day I got WORSE. Nasal congestion came to join the party. I had a sore shoulder/neck but I’m pretty sure that was annoyingly unrelated. But still no fun to deal with when everything else is wrong too, you know?
I began to get a little concerned. Motrin and Tylenol were only grazing my fever, keeping it from skyrocketing to utterly ridiculous heights. My cough and chest congestion were the worst I’ve ever had, with my dry cough just increasing the pressure in my chest to the point that I doubled over in pain whenever I had to cough. Oh sweet, sweet misery…
Friday, I had an appointment with my endocrinologist (the very one that I mentioned in my last post about missing and having to reschedule due to a stupid delayed start at school). Since it was already a reschedule, I didn’t feel like I could just reschedule it AGAIN. So I took a bunch of medicine that ended up only making me feel worse and drove myself to see the thyroid doc. Kile dropped Liam at school so I wouldnt have to rush and took Evie to work with him. I very nearly did not make it. I felt dizzy and miserable and out of my mind. I could feel my fever making an unpleasant return (8 hour Tylenol be damned!) and worried I would collapse right there. At one point, I seriously considered laying on the floor in the exam room while waiting for the doc, as there was no bed available. Luckily I made it through and somehow was able to drive over to the university to pick Evie up (I cringe that I even tried, trust me).
When I got home, I crawled in bed and died. Well, rather, dozed and listened to Evie playing with Legos in the next room. Eventually, I scraped myself up and gave Evie some lunch. Once I got her to bed for her nap, I proceeded to die again up in bed. Then Kile called and said he was driving home to pick Evie and I up to take me to Urgent Care. And, though the mere idea of sitting in another doctors office filled me with unspeakable dread, I knew I had to go.
It was a long wait. Kile and Evie had to leave eventually to pick up Harry and then Liam from school. It took me about an hour to get called back. I’m sure the whole waiting room sighed with relief after I went back. Crowded as it was, I had that whole end of the waiting room to myself. I must have looked wretched.
The good news about getting called back was that there was a bed to lay on. Which helped immensely. The nurse had me wear a mask but I pulled it down no one was in the room because what with my excelllerated heart rate (117 bpm!) and faster breathing and raging fever (102.8), the mask was rather stiffling after a few minutes. I waited quite a while longer but it was tolerable because of the aforementioned bed and my iPhone for entertainment. Hello, Instagram!
The nurse swabbed me for flu (yowch and bleck!) and lo, it was not flu! So it must be bronchitis! I was handed two prescriptions (one for anti-biotics and one for nighttime cough syrup) and a note to give my employer excusing me from work (I handed this to Kile, as I figured he was the most likely recipient. I didn’t figure the note would count much with the kids themselves).
I stumbled outside to await Kile to pick me up. Though I would have been thrilled to go right home to bed, we stopped at Smith’s to fill the prescriptions (I stayed in the car where the sun threatened to melt me alive) (remember the fever? Yeah, still had it). After that Kile drove me up by the new Walmart. Not quite open yet (Wednesday at 8:15 am!) but we could drive through the lot and google the doors. Oooh! Ahhh! Okay, now take me home please.
Once there, I did the usual and crawled in bed and died. Some ibuprofen taken once I had some semblance of wits about me again and the fever started to back off. In fact, in an hour or two I was able to shamble downstairs and join the family. In fact, that night after I’d had my first round of anti-biotics, I noticed that my cough wasn’t hurting as much anymore.
Of course, some time in the night when I was half asleep, I stretched. And this pulled my already sore shoulder and OW. Because I don’t have enough to deal with at the moment, I have to have a pulled muscle or pinched nerve or whatever it is in my shoulder too. KILL ME NOW. I found a position that was somewhat tolerable and eeked out a few more hours of sleep. Then I had to get up because the pain was agony. Kile had to help me up, oh the indignity! But I did feel better sitting up my chair downstairs and even better after some Tylenol and a hot compress. Later, after a steamy (and much needed) shower, it felt better yet.
I guess the end of it is that I feel halfway normal today. And judging by how I felt yesterday? That is so much more than I could have hoped for. So I don’t think it’s foolish of me to hope that tomorrow I feel twice as good. Something approaching normal would certainly be acceptable. I am SO tired of being sick. Next year, I swear, I’m getting a flu shot. Hold me to it, Internet!