I'm sick. I hate being sick. I hate being sick because I can never imagine myself ever being well again. Luckily I rarely get sick, which ticks my wife off because when she gets sick, it always seems to be for a week and its pretty bad, whereas I get it for a day. Or maybe half-a-day. This time, however, the quick turn around was not to be.
So last Sunday whilst driving home from Seattle, I started feeling crappy. No nausea, just fever. Sure enough, we stopped in Woodland for dinner, and I got out of the car and immediately started shivering. So we got home and I took my temperature, and it was 101.9! That's rare for me...or maybe well-done! Ha!
Anyways, I decided to go to the ER just in case. I checked in, they ran all the tests: blood, urinalysis, chest x-ray, etc. Nada. My diagnosis? "Fever of Unknown Origin." Greeeat. So I went home and basically stayed in bed the next two days. It must have been viral, as Evey didn't get it. The fever went down, but this schizo virus can't make up its mind and decided it wanted to hang out in my lungs. Y'know, cause having asthma since I was a baby isn't enough--now I get to cough up all sorts of amazing colored mucus and wheeze like a 90-year old man who smoked for 70 years who is now on an oxygen tank! Hooray!
I have been hitting the Nyquil every night, and medicating with Mucinex as well. I think its winding down. I even had to reschedule a root canal, as me sitting in the chair coughing up a lung probably wouldn't be the best idea as there are multiple sharp objects in my mouth.
So in review: Being sick is dumb.
7 years ago