The Aftermath

I spent much of last week in a NyQuil-induced coma. What started as a rough "like I've been screaming at a concert" throat Tuesday morning quickly disintegrated into a burning throat/chest and desire to remove all of my facial bones by Wednesday. You know, that wonderful feeling where all of your teeth just ... ache?

I parked myself in my doctor's parking lot Thursday morning and begged inside once they opened. [Side note: Really ... I'm already sick ... MUST we include the friggin scale moment on top of the pain?] I was told I had a fever of 101 F. Really? Hmmm ... I should probably purchase one of those thermometer thingamajigs one of these days.

Diagnosis? "You have a sinusitis/bronchitis mixture, could be viral or bacterial, but we like to wait a week before starting antibiotics anyway to see if your own immune system can handle it."

...

Now, just pause and let that immense wisdom ... that comfort and knowledge sink in a moment.

...

It left me with a definite feeling of, "Well, no shit Sherlock ... I'm thinking my immune system had a problem handling it since I'M SICK! Give me my $10 copay back."

Remember the days when you'd go in, a culture was completed, and an antibiotic had you feeling better before you could spell its name? These days, don't bother going into your doctor's office until you've been sick at least a week or you'll likely receive the same line I got.

The one thing you can still count on these days as you could way back when? NyQuil. That green elixir of the gods, that cure-all, only slightly alcoholic so it's okay, wonder liquid that somehow left you opening your eyes to a moment of clear breathing in which you were horribly afraid to move. My days and nights blurred together last week in a -Quil haze punctuated only by bathroom breaks, some soup, and the occasional phone call that always had the same 2nd sentence, "You sound horrible!!"

Well, yes, a quick descent into the Exorcist will do that.

I began to come out of my stupor this past weekend with small successful excursions to the outside world and went back to work this morning feeling 90% better. I'm in the remnant stage. That aftermath where you swear you're back to being well ... and for hours on end you are perfectly fine. My reminder to the contrary are the occasional coughing fits that bend me over and leave my eyes watering before they end. The remnants.

I had two especially special remnant moments today:

1. While lying nearly naked in a tanning bed at the gym. Oh yes. After noting several particularly attractive men working out at my gym this evening, I made my way into the tanning bed area, stripped, lotioned up, and settled into what I expected to be 15 minutes of relaxing heat. About 45 seconds into this bliss, I blanched at the first tickle at the back of my throat ... and just knew the bliss was at the end already. I coughed until I was afraid I'd throw up .... eyes watering .... covering my mouth as much as possible to stifle the sounds ... unable to run to the bathroom (that nearly naked part). Ugh.
2. While pumping gas on my way home from the gym. After my fit at the gym, I was again perfectly fine ... in the solitude of my car. As soon as I got out in order to pump gas, the tickle started again ... and I entertained my fellow gas pumpers with a spectacular coughing fit that included that rare but always impressive sneeze DURING a cough.

Now? Oh I'm perfectly fine ... sitting quietly at my computer describing the remnants.

Evil lurking remnants. If only illnesses would leave us as quickly as they come upon us.