Monday, February 11
Here we go again
I'm sick, again, for the third time in about six weeks. It first crept up on me, again, on a Friday night. I had a touch of a sore throat on Saturday but it didn't really knock me out until Saturday afternoon. I started to feel very tired and achy. Sunday was worse. I can't remember ever feeling that achy all over. I even tried taking Tylenol only to come to the sad conclusion that Tylenol is for wimps. It didn't do a damn thing for me. I still had a headache, sore throat, sore ears, sore eyes, sore hair (you heard me) and no appetite. I know, imagine me with no appetite. I felt so awful it finally occurred to me that I might want to check my temperature. It was 101 degrees last night. I rarely have a fever. In fact, my normal temperature is lower than the average bear's. My "normal' temperature is 98 degrees. Not 98.6, but 98. I don't know why that is or what it says about me but it's one of those weird Lucy facts that only a mother would know. Well, a mother and now you. So what does a chronic sicky do with her shut-in weekend? I chose to spend my time with a few good friends: Joan Crawford (Mildred Pierce), Ingrid Bergman (Gaslight) and Oliva de Havilland (The Heiress). I may not be able to swallow but I can still appreciate a good film thanks to Tivo and TCM's 31 Days of Oscars. (Each day of the week features a different decade of Oscar winning films... aka ...a slice of heaven!)
After such a restful Sunday I figured I'd give going to work a shot. I got up this morning thinking I'd go through my normal work day routine and see how I felt and how far I'd get. I was back in bed immediately after my shower. You know you're in trouble when a shower is too much of a workout for you. I later called my boss to tell her I'd be out. We've been extraordinarily busy and I realize the timing isn't great but there wasn't much I could do about it. She didn't sound thrilled but I didn't think she'd want me and my fever anywhere near her office today.
I've got another doctor's appointment tomorrow morning. I'm not sure why I bother. I doubt they'll give me anything. I've already burned through two rounds of antibiotics. I just want to be able to swallow without pain again. It hurts so bad it reminds me of my numerous bouts with strep throat as a kid. I always thought it was cruel to tell a kid they have strep then tell them you expect them to swallow a gigantor pink penicillin pill a couple of times a day for a week. Sadists! The only good to come of those bouts with strep was my ability to swallow lima beans whole which really came in handy when my parents were on one of their frequent "eat your vegetables" kicks.
Wish me luck at the doctor's office. The last couple of times I've been there I've about bit the doc's head off when she poked at my tonsils and innocently asked "Does that hurt?" A very loud (well, really more of a barked) "OWW!" followed by a terribly annoyed look seems to be becoming a nice tradition for us.
Posted by Lucy at 5:04 PM