Yes, yes, usually Sundays are for worshiping something. Getoverit.
I have been down, down, down, since my return from Reno, where I had a mostly fun time. Sadly, something about the rapid changes in altitude (my theory) enabled a lingering yet simple light cold to become the chest infection from aitch eee double ell.
By Tuesday last week, I was feeling shitty. Wednesday I was maintaining my defenses and denying the evil inside me, but by Thursday I was emailing the doc cause everything coming out of my lungs and sinuses was neon colored in-spite of my denial.
Friday found me in the doc office, being poked and prodded and listened too. The poking could have been more fun. My doc sure is cute :P, but alas we are both already married to wonderful men.
I was sent home with a Zpac (some of you will now what this is) and told not to take it unless the fever went over 101.
He also said I was not to treat the fever (boooo!) unless it went over 102. Then I could zap it down with ibuprofen.
So I went home with mixed feelings. On the one hand, I didn't want to get any sicker than I already was, but on the other hand, if I did get sicker there was a chance I might feel better faster if the antibiotics and ibuprofen helped at all. What a quandary. If only we had a Decider to help us.
So....yesterday around 5pm it all came together - after languishing all day in a bitchy achy fever mood on the couch, the heat finally went from 100.6 to 102.2 and stayed there. Yippee! You know it! A double win!
I summoned Cabana Boy Nurse Betty (my hubby) and he opened the sacred pill bottles and presented me with the magically invested cock-a-tail and crossed his fingers.
Which brings us to today! Not 100% better, but I have no fever,there is much less coughing, and less head congestion.
Regardless if it was the fever or pills, I feel better and less likely to fall over everytime I stand up to do the zombie dance, which is grand, and I am much less whiny and bitchy which makes Cabana Boy Nurse Betty much happier too...