My reluctance to go to the doctor has been well documented. Nothing against MDs or those of you who believe that "if one works, two will work twice as well." I just don't like the idea of medication. I believe that, in most cases, the body can heal itself. I'm not militant in this stance by any means. I mean, I love me some Nyquil. A girl's gotta sleep sometimes when there is just no more sleep to be had. And I realize that if I were in the hospital, they will need to use some sort of anesthetic before they removed the limb that needs removing (which, of course, is the only reason why I would be in the hospital in the first place...) But for a headache? Close your eyes and relax a bit - if it gets worse, go home...don't work. Sore neck? Just don't turn to the sore side. Duh.
All of that said, and not to get melodramatic on you, I think I'm dying. Seriously. I am sick sick sick, and since I have very little experience being sick, I have no idea how miserable I should feel when it's just a little sick vs. a big sick. That said, judging on how I feel, this is obviously a very serious illness and I am going to die from it. I'm chilling out on death's doorstep just waiting for the angels to come and take me home. (or for someone to help me into my handbasket. Either way.)
It all began at my parent's house over Labor Day weekend. I woke up one morning with no voice. The second morning it was a little bit worse. I just figured it would go away...something about the air down where my parents live has never worked well with me anyway. The raspy throat in the morning persisted and eventually developed into a cough. A rattling cough that sometimes produced grossness from my lungs. I was mildly concerned, but I didn't feel worse for the wear...I just had a cough. I sounded like a smoker, actually. I went ahead and participated in an all day, two-on-two volleyball tournament with this cough.
And then Monday came. And with it came misery.
Monday morning started off okay. My head was a bit stuffy, and I really didn't want to get out of bed, but I made it to work and had an okay day. By Monday night, all I wanted to do was whine about how I didn't feel well. Tuesday morning I knew I wasn't going to work (for long) and after coming home at noon and getting a quality nap in with the dogs, deciding that I couldn't possibly go to class and demanding that the boy come and keep my sick ass company, I called the doctor's office. (After that phone call, I asked the boy, in all seriousness, to cut off my nose with a kitchen knife to stop the DAMNED ITCHING that was making my eyes constantly water.)
I don't have any allergies of which I'm aware.
Which doctor? Good question, as I do not have a general practicioner. (I know, I know. Save your lectures for someone who's not sick at the moment.) I begged a referral from my boss and made a Wednesday morning appointment with his doctor.
The only outstanding memory I have of the doctor's office was a neat discussion about western medicine vs. herbal/organic supplements, and the fact that his scale confirmed my worst fear - that my home scale isn't weighing heavy by 20 lbs. Damn.
Apparently I am not dying. Apparently I have a "sinus infection." I still think that "sinus infection" is code for "dead in a week" but what do I know? I woke up this morning feeling better, but I still have that death rattle in my lungs, and the slightest laugh sends me into a coughing fit that brings tears to my eyes.
Because I've now pulled a muscle in my abdomen from the coughing and sneezing. I'm so old.
Never mind the old. It's a new decade, right? I'm going to learn how to take care of myself. I need rest, right? No volleyball, no stress, just sleep (and prescribed medication.)
So last night I went to volleyball - just to observe, mind you. I'm the captain of one of the teams, and one of the subs didn't know anyone else, blah blah, insert excuse here. I only played one game. One out of six! That's progress, right?
And tonight...well, I'm still going to lab. I have to go to lab. I can't miss lab. We're having a quiz tonight.
And tomorrow... I'm watching a movie with some friends after work. Um, I'll make sure to get home early.
Saturday? Well, I volunteer in the morning, but I should be able to sleep in the afternoon. That's it. I'll schedule in some sleep on Saturday afternoon.
See? I can take care of myself...