Monday, November 9, 2009

One whammy, two whammies, three whammies... No!

As I sit here at my computer, at work, I've fallen asleep about seven times, complete with drool crustingly collected at the corners of my mouth. Am I on drugs, you ask? Well, yes. Yes, I am.

They're not over-the-counter but not necessarily the kind you'd buy from a guy wearing a trenchcoat and speaking in a veiled whisper. "Hey, Meester...." They are the kind you'd get from a guy or girl in a white coat (but no straight jackets) behind the counter of your local pharmacy. Your own pharma-pusher. You can liken the doctor to the cartel bigwig, offering his product to keep ya hooked. And I'm hooked. Soon, I'll be sleeping it off. Head down. On my desk. Drooling. Oh, and don't forget the talking in my sleep. They don't call me Mona Putt-Putt for nothing.

I've been "under the weather" for the past two weeks, and no, people, it's not the swine flu. A co-worker of mine was uber concerned when I came into the office with what I describe as an covert tactical exercise in my sinuses... a head cold. No fever, no vomiting, but an extremely full head, sneezes that would rock the universe and a cough. Oh, the cough. That was about two weeks ago and I haven't stopped hacking since. In fact, I hacked so much and with such ferosity that I thought I threw my lower back out. I couldn't sit, enter or exit my car or even pee without pain.

So, to recap: major head cold and a very sore back. And then the weekend arrived and the back got worse. Maybe it was from the coughing, which is what my boss had hinted at when I told her of the last-minute doctor's appointment I managed to secure after first trying two walk-in clinics on my lunch hour. With an hour for lunch, of which I had used up 15 minutes driving to the clinic, there was no way I could sit and wait my turn for a further 45 minutes to an hour the receptionist had suggested as a wait time. And that, was just an estimate. So, I called my doctor's office and asked for the last appointment of the day. I had my suspicions. I'm pretty intuitive that way. Besides, the pain was a familiar one.

It hurts when I pee
Actually, it didn't, which is why my bladder-turned-kidney infection went undiagnosed. And that, my friends, is why my back hurt. The coughing certainly didn't help, but, as I suspected, it wasn't the main culprit.

I came home from the doctor's appointment armed with god knows what: some sort of antibiotic other than penicillin (I get hives from those lovelies), uber-strength cough syrup (so strong I neeed a prescription to get it), Advil for my sore back, tissues so I don't spray and a large bottle of Vitamin C so I'll be better prepared for the next onslaught of sickness that will go through my house and my office.

I'll be ditzier than usual for the next few days, if today is any indication. I thought everyone saw me nod off, only to jolt awake because I had dreamt that the man threw a cashew at me from a deck and hit me square, right between the eyes. Oh wait, that did happen. Perhaps I was just plotting my revenge. Better yet, I'll lick my palms and caress his face and lick every spoon and fork in the cutlery tray.


  1. I'm sorry you haven't been feeling well! I got something that was going around which sounds suspiciously like what you have, at the beginning of October and it took me two weeks to totally shake it off, and I had a minor relapse last week. Ugh.

  2. So will you lick the bad cutlery or the good cutlery? Or both?

  3. You know what you need now? A yeast infection. Kidding and totally inappropriate. I'm sorry you're falling apart. I hope you feel better soon.

  4. Aunt Juicebox: Thanks, I'll keep an eye out for a relapse. It's been going arouond my office too. I'm just surprised it took this long for me to get it.

    Anasatan: All of the cutlery - good and bad - then there can be no chance of him NOT getting it.

    Summer: OOOH I love me a good yeast infection - thanks! :) I'm sure the drugs will kick in and I'll kick this thing in the chimmichanga.

  5. Sorry to hear you're still under the weather. But, look on the bright could be suffering endlessly like our dear friend Buella.

  6. Whoa Nelly! You really have a whammie there. But maybe you can milk this with the man.

  7. Simply Mags: Praise be to Darwin that I am not a Buella!

    Mim: I've tried to milk it. No takeys on that one. ;)