Over the last month (it seems like a lifetime) I have been fighting cold after cold. Finally this week I broke down and got myself and appointment with my family physician. When I say I broke down, I mean I physically was at the point that I could not sleep in any other position but one involving sitting at a complete 90 degree angle. I couldn’t breathe bending over or even slightly slouching and my voice was basically similar in tonal quality to that of escaping air from a hose. It also doesn’t help that I’ve been trying to put a band together and I was hoping that Spring Break would give me plenty of time to do just that. I’ve accomplished near to zilch over the break except going through excessive amounts of Kleenex (I am now #12 on the list of leading destroyers of the rainforest) and coughing out multiple organs. I thought about selling them on the Black Market or maybe Ebay but I figured that having a liver might be more important than making some extra cash—though I could use a new amplifier. So I found a surgeon at a Hampton Inn who was able to reinsert my liver and give me free butt implants. That’s a story for another day.
I feel that the story needs some further explaining so I’ll take you back to the beginning. The beginning was in February--like the weekend right before my 21st birthday. I got a little bit of a cold. It wasn’t anything Earth shattering but it was definitely a little discomforting. I was okay by the time my birthday came around and then the first week of March I freaking got nailed. For like two days I had a high fever and just was miserable as all hell. Then I was fine but something wasn’t right. I would get winded really easily and was just fatigued but I went on ignoring it. Spring Break was coming up and there was stuff to do before it peaked it’s inebriated head around the corner of my calendar. Last Friday I experienced what may have been the straw that broke this blogging camel’s back. I had a patient sneeze in my face. I blogged about I here in my last entry but I merely thought that it was just a good cold that I got. I was very wrong. My condition did not improve and out of the three days I was scheduled to work this week—I worked a Tuesday and was told my boss to get into a doctor ASAP. She said that “my eyes were not looking right”. I kind of blew it off since I had dealt with some killer bugs before and didn’t really let it get in my way of earning a paycheck or going through with my normal routine. I made myself back to the bathroom and happened to just take a peek at myself in the mirror on the way out and was pretty horrified at just how bad I looked. It was like Charlie Sheen bad. So finally I broke down and called my Dad and told him to call my doc for an appointment. I told my boss I had to take Thursday off and she had somebody cover it for me.
Wednesday was bad. Like I don’t even want to talk about how bad it was. Thursday morning came around and needless to say I got no sleep at all. I took a shower, got dressed, and had my Dad drive me to my doctor’s office in Sterling Heights. First off, what is it with a doctor’s office waiting room that attracts weirdos? I realize that it was St. Patrick’s Day and a good 60 to 70 percent of the population was tipping them back at sunrise but still 0_o. The wait wasn’t very long—which was good because I felt like crap and was in no mood to be sitting in the middle of Barnum & Bailey’s Big Tent. The nurse called my name and weighed me on the scale (and then shouted my weight out at a level that I think the neighboring cities could hear) and led me to my little cubbyhole room to wait for the doctor. Now as much disdain as I carry for what seems to be a vast majority of the doctors I have run across I really do like my doctor. I’m lucky to have had a family physician who is a pretty down-to-earth guy and a walking encyclopedia. Imagine those two things together? Hmmm…
He took an X-ray and came back in the room and informed me that I had one nasty case of Pneumonia. In his words, “How in the hell are you still standing?” So from that and an early statement about how I sounded like I was “rattling like a toolbox” when he listened to my lungs—I got the message it was pretty bad. I either could go to the hospital or go home on some nasty antibiotics. I chose the nasty antibiotics and it is now Sunday and I’m mobile and staying positive but still feeling sick. I’m also on medical leave from work for a week courtesy of my doctor chewing my butt out about waiting to see him and getting exposed to sick people while being really sick myself. It has been the most boring week I have ever had. HANDS DOWN.
Moral of the story is that if you are feeling sick stay home. If you are feeling really sick for an extended amount of time (like sick to the point that you know something isn’t right) do not ignore it and get into a clinic or your doctor. I got lucky here that I didn’t develop Pleurisy. I mean I came VERY CLOSE. Don’t make my mistake. It has now been 28 days and I am just starting to feel a little better. IT. IS. NOT. FUN.