Enhanced with Antibiotics
I stayed home sick from work today, which I'm actually pretty unhappy about. It makes me feel weak and out of control, largely because there was no decision involved here. I wasn't lying in bed at 8 am thinking, "Well, I could go to work and feel like crap or I could go to the doctor and get some rest and feel better tomorrow." No. My body would not allow me to go to work today.
For starters, I have an annoying, hacking cough. I'm also wheezing with nearly every breath, and my chest hurts when I cough. Or breathe. Whichever.
I'm also fairly certain that I've blown more liquid out of my nose in the past hour than I've put into my body in the last day. I'm drinking tea, though, which should help.
My fever hit at least 101 Saturday night. (I say at least, because I was drinking cold water, which presumably had an effect on the thermometer. Plus, I was impatient and wanted the damn thing out of my mouth as quickly as possible.)
My chest hurt so bad yesterday that Leon took me to the doctor, which is quite an ordeal on a Sunday. He called around and eventually found out through the university's health services that there was a clinic in Fremont that was open. This was about a 40 minute drive away and they didn't take appointments, so we had no way of knowing if this would be any better than simply going to the emergency room.
Well, if anything, it was cheaper than going the hospital. But it turned out to be something of a four hour ordeal just to see the doctor for less than five minutes.
She was not professional in the least and seemed rather amused that Leon and I traveled so far to see a doctor. She looked in my ears and told me that she saw pus (gross, I know) from my body attempting to fight off a bacterial infection, and she said I would cough until I took care of it. She wrote me a prescription for antiobiotic pills called Biaxin, which are barely smaller than elephant suppositories, and also a prescription for an inhaler. That damn organic Elephant Pharmacy had to order it, so I am currently doing without.
Of course, she wasn't even going to give me that prescription until I pressed her and even then, she suggested that we get rid of our guinea pigs (I'm allergic to their hay) as an alternative. But until our apartment is free of dust and pollen and mold and possibly anything else that I might be allergic to, it's a stupid suggestion.
But I seemed to be the healthiest I'd been all day when she was looking at me. I wasn't wheezing and didn't have a fever, so I'm not even sure that she thinks I have the flu. But clearly I do. That and a disgusting, pus-filled bacterial infection.
Anyway, I've gone through an entire roll of toilet paper (poor man's Kleenex) writing this, so that's probably long enough.
For starters, I have an annoying, hacking cough. I'm also wheezing with nearly every breath, and my chest hurts when I cough. Or breathe. Whichever.
I'm also fairly certain that I've blown more liquid out of my nose in the past hour than I've put into my body in the last day. I'm drinking tea, though, which should help.
My fever hit at least 101 Saturday night. (I say at least, because I was drinking cold water, which presumably had an effect on the thermometer. Plus, I was impatient and wanted the damn thing out of my mouth as quickly as possible.)
My chest hurt so bad yesterday that Leon took me to the doctor, which is quite an ordeal on a Sunday. He called around and eventually found out through the university's health services that there was a clinic in Fremont that was open. This was about a 40 minute drive away and they didn't take appointments, so we had no way of knowing if this would be any better than simply going to the emergency room.
Well, if anything, it was cheaper than going the hospital. But it turned out to be something of a four hour ordeal just to see the doctor for less than five minutes.
She was not professional in the least and seemed rather amused that Leon and I traveled so far to see a doctor. She looked in my ears and told me that she saw pus (gross, I know) from my body attempting to fight off a bacterial infection, and she said I would cough until I took care of it. She wrote me a prescription for antiobiotic pills called Biaxin, which are barely smaller than elephant suppositories, and also a prescription for an inhaler. That damn organic Elephant Pharmacy had to order it, so I am currently doing without.
Of course, she wasn't even going to give me that prescription until I pressed her and even then, she suggested that we get rid of our guinea pigs (I'm allergic to their hay) as an alternative. But until our apartment is free of dust and pollen and mold and possibly anything else that I might be allergic to, it's a stupid suggestion.
But I seemed to be the healthiest I'd been all day when she was looking at me. I wasn't wheezing and didn't have a fever, so I'm not even sure that she thinks I have the flu. But clearly I do. That and a disgusting, pus-filled bacterial infection.
Anyway, I've gone through an entire roll of toilet paper (poor man's Kleenex) writing this, so that's probably long enough.