STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS RAMBLING
I am so done with this hastared illness.
I had to go back to the doctor again on Wednesday. I seriously thought I had this whole germy thing in my lungs destroyed, but alas, I was wrong. My chest had started hurting again and I was practically narcoleptic. I had gone to church last Sunday and could barely walk around. I told people that I was just having trouble walking on my heels, but I was really so sleepy I could barely stand. I was also so cold I had to get one of the old lady blankets that we keep in the back of the sanctuary to keep from shivering during the service. The old lady blankets, y'all! I thought all of the sleeping meant I was getting better, but apparently it just meant I was still sick. I will find the person who sneezed on me, and I will harm them emotionally. It was probably some snotty kid at Disney World who licked a hand rail or something. Kids do that, right?
They x-rayed my lungs again, and let me tell you...walking around a public place with no bra on is a weirdly vulnerable feeling. I'm just glad the rooms I had to travel between were just down the hall from each other, or I was going to have to beg a lab coat from someone. I wish they'd let me have my x-rays. I've never seen the inside of my chest before. It's funny; in the room where they take the x-rays, there is a book on all of the bones in the skeleton. It makes me nervous to think that some of them may have to consult a manual to see which bone is which. I mean, I understand not everyone can memorize every bone, but hide the book at least!
I even consented to get a shot, so you know I was serious! I hate shots! I know they really don't hurt, and it's all in my head, but I can't stand the thought of someone sticking me with a syringe. The nurse who did it was very good, and since I told her it was an irrational fear of mine, she did it quickly. My "hip" still hurts from where I was injected, but at least the medicine started working right away. She also gave me an antibiotic so strong that I'm afraid to water the houseplants on the off chance I sneeze near one and kill it.
I think I'm actually getting better now, but since I thought that last time, I'll just wait and see what the doctor says on Thursday when I go back. I'm still not coughing, which seems weird since my lungs are affected. The doc seems to think I'm coughing a lot, but when I told her I wasn't, she told me to take my cough syrup anyways. It either drops me like a tranquilized wildebeest, or keeps me up all night tripping. My chest and heart still hurt, but she didn't seem concerned about that. At this point, I have been at the clinic so many times in the last month that I'm sure my insurance company has paid for a semester at Harvard for one of the doctor's kids.
All I can do is sleep and eat and do laundry and I'm bored with all of those things. If this stupid crud lasts another week, I'm going to resort to giving myself prison tats just to liven things up.
This post brought to you by another night of no sleeping. Sponsored by the letter Z, the letter X and the number 9.