Well, okay, so I’m not Catholic, nor am I sneezing all that much, its more the coughing and such that is the real pain.
Oh, the coughing…
See, some things were meant to be shared, and others weren’t, and I was unwittingly (and totally unintentionally) a party to the second variety… berylq’s cold. Only it’s not a cold, it’s a monster cold, it’s not even a monster cold, it’s freaking broncchitis or something.
With me, these things always turn into brocchitis.
I was a good girl, though, I went to the doctor Thursday morning and even though there was nothing at the moment to suggest it was more than a cold (I said flu but apparently it can’t be since it’s not flu season even though all my symptoms matched the ones on the flu medicine box) I explained that I was going out of town over the long weekend and was afraid it would get worse. I walked out with an Rx for a z-pack. I love my doctor.
Friday morning things officially progressed to ‘worse’ even after a day of rest and juice and soup. It was like a bad 70s living room set up camp in my lungs (if you catch my drift). Ugh. I made it almost 2 hours at work before going back to my perch on the couch with soup, juice and back to back episodes of Friends (’cause daytime tv? sucks…). Mom was my hero because she brought me popsicles on her way home.
Today I did manage to sleep in a little (both because I slept pretty much sitting up and got up at 4am for more meds) but, wow, I needed to do a load of laundry this morning and it totally wiped me out. Plus? I’m running out of my heaven-sent cough syrup, the only one that has ever worked, and the doctor’s office is closed until Wednesday. So off I trip my coughy, no-voiced self (I had to email Mom the request for popsicles because voice? gone….) to the pharmacy to plead my case and ask for a recommendation on what will work as good. I’m not totally convinced that the sub is the best thing in the world, but it should hopefully get me through the rest of this weekend.
Because tomorrow? I get to spend six hours in the car trying not to infect Mom, then however many hours at the viewing trying not to choke and I will undoubtably be crying, then Monday the services and then another six hours in the car home. Just a quick trip there and back, me, Mom, and my cooler of Gatorade and meds.
See y’all on Tuesday.
I’m sooo sorry! I didn’t think I was contagoius by then. I’ll think happy thoughts for you feeling better soon.