An Ass Kicking I Didn't Deserve
A big group of us Parrot Heads were at a regional phlocking (yeah, that's what we call social gatherings) two weekends ago. It was a great time but many of us apparently over-shared. Not personal information but germs. An inordinate number of us came home sick. Really sick.
I don't get sick much. In fact, I have over 8 weeks of sick time in the bank at work. I don't think I've ever taken 3 sick days in one swoop before in my life but I did last week. Ugh.
Here's how it rolled out.
I started getting congested on Saturday but thought it was because it was really windy and blowing dust around. Sunday was a little worse. Monday was bad. I woke up without much of a voice and I was beat. I attributed it all to a lot of partying from Wednesday night on when I was falling asleep on Monday night at 7 PM. That was ignoring the fact that I got nearly 8 hours of sleep Sunday night and should have been fine.
Tuesday found me with a little bit of a voice and a stuffy head but I went to work. Actually put in a long day then got my hair done but, when I got home, I was toast. It was early to bed with a promise to myself that if I didn't feel better in the morning, I was calling in sick.
Wednesday morning wakeup found me feeling even worse. I called in, read the paper then went back to bed until 10:40 AM. Still felt like crap. Body aches, dry cough and extreme fatigue.
Thursday morning was even worse. My morning nap lasted until after noon. George was giving me looks like, "What the hell? Is sleeping all you do? You're not a cat, you know." I didn't even take a shower.
I finally decided to take my temperature that night and it was 101. No wonder I felt like crap. I dug in the medicine cabinet for my aspirin. It expired in 2007 (I told you I don't get sick often). I took three and got my temp down to 100. That didn't last long, it was soon back to 101.
Friday morning was day three of no work. We have a policy (that I later learned was "may" instead of "must") where the manager requests a doctor's note if you're out for three days in a row so I scheduled an appointment with my doc. I probably would have done it anyway since I wasn't getting better.
Now, some people have doctors who give them pain pills and antibiotics and other good stuff all the time. Not my dude. He usually tells me that I need to lose weight and exercise and that's about it. This time, he told me it looked to be a virus and I needed to let it run its course. However, he gave me a prescription for a Zpac and told me to fill it on Sunday if I didn't feel better.
Since I don't believe in taking antibiotics unless necessary, I grilled him on what defined feeling better. First, he said if you're coughing up green stuff then take it. Then, he said if you're not feeling better then take it.
Any thought I had about trying to work was negated by my post-doctor's visit grocery store trip. I did buy updated pain reliever but only after I knocked a bottle of jam on the floor (they were very nice about that and told me "Sweetie, don't worry about it. We'll clean it up.), walked so erratically in the aisle that a guy ran in to me, forgot half of what I wanted to buy and spent five minutes in a dazed mental debate on whether sugar free cough drops with Aspartame were better or worse than the regular ones with sugar. Let's just say, I was relieved to make it home safely.
The only bonus of this was that I lost eight pounds in four days. That's what happens when you only eat raw fruit and vegetables (because cooking is too much effort) and drink orange juice and water. Thank the gods, I inherited the cooler from our hotel room with the remainder of the Mimosa mixings. The orange juice is almost gone, the Champagne is still there.
Friday night found me at rock bottom. The fever was cooking my body. I could literally feel my eyeballs baking in their sockets. I contemplated calling someone to come take care of me. And, by taking care, I mean putting cold compresses on my eyes, serving me ice cream (which they would have to buy since I forgot it at the store) and even feeding me the ice cream.
I didn't call anyone because it would have required unlocking the door and putting on some sort of acceptable clothing. Instead, I lay on the couch with a cold, damp wash cloth on my eyes and listened to the Suns' comeback against the Spurs before shuffling back to bed where I just laid there, too tired to move but unable to sleep anymore.
It was pathetic.
Steven, The Rocket Scientist and I had plans to see Iron Man 2 on Saturday morning. I told both of them that I wouldn't go if I were still feverish. Steven called my bluff and said I would go anyway (he was probably right) but I woke up with a temperature of 98.8. Good enough for the movies, I thought.
I took some new aspirin, put a couple of cough drops in my pocket and went to the theater. I should have taken more cough drops but made it through the movie. I got home and fell asleep on the couch, only waking when my drooling on the pillow made its way to my conscious being.
I felt pretty good, considering, and thought for sure that the worse was behind me. I found the energy to go to the store, dust and vacuum the living room , do laundry and put clean sheets on the bed. Clearly, I was on the mend. Finally!
Ah, the hubris of mortals.
I woke up Sunday morning with coughing that could potentially break a rib. No fever though so I went with Steven and my parents to the DiamondBacks game. First baseball game in my adult life that I did not have a beer at. Shorty told me during the game and later at their house, "You need to fill the prescription" as I was now suffering from a constantly running nose and a deep cough.
I agreed and stopped at Walgreen's on my way home. Of course, the Walgreen's pharmacy between my parents' house and mine is not open at 8 PM on Sunday night so I had to wait until Monday to get my drugs. Well, I could have driven to another Walgreen's but, frankly, I didn't have the energy.
Monday morning came around and I still didn't have a fever so I went to work. I've heard that's how you know you're no longer contagious. Despite taking Dayquil, my nose would not stop running. I burned through a tissue in a meeting with my manager and VP and the VP finally broke out a packet of Kleenex he bought in Asia on his last business trip and made me take it. It's cute!
Got my Zpac at lunch and took the first two. The rest of the day was spent blowing my nose and coughing. I did go to bed before 9 PM and slept until 8 AM so my body still craved sleep.
Tuesday was better. No running nose but my cough now sounded like I was hacking up a lung. Or at least, breaking up a lung. I felt good, though.
Today was a constant improvement. The coughing got progressively better to the point where I haven't coughed much at all since I got home. My head is clear and I'm not beat.
I think I'm over the hump. I will take my drugs until they're gone though.
My pals are not doing much better than I. We've got a few H1N1 victims from the weekend, a couple of bronchitis sufferers and lots of people with my somewhere between a cold and a flu symptoms. It's not enough to call in the CDC but it sure is suspicious.
That weekend spread disease to Utah, Iowa, Washington DC and California. I was reminded of Stephen King's The Stand.
Of course, missing work at a busy time sucks but the Social Butterfly was dying at all the missed events. TRS and I were supposed to go to Tucson for a party but I called that off. I could have done a charity poker tournament, a club happy hour and a friend's birthday party but I just wasn't up to any of that. It kills a little bit of my Butterfly soul to miss events.
Hopefully, I'm truly on the mend but I'm still taking it slow. I have happy hour plans for tomorrow night but nothing on the books for Friday. A quiet evening at home may be in the works just to make sure whatever attacked me is really gone.
I don't get sick much. In fact, I have over 8 weeks of sick time in the bank at work. I don't think I've ever taken 3 sick days in one swoop before in my life but I did last week. Ugh.
Here's how it rolled out.
I started getting congested on Saturday but thought it was because it was really windy and blowing dust around. Sunday was a little worse. Monday was bad. I woke up without much of a voice and I was beat. I attributed it all to a lot of partying from Wednesday night on when I was falling asleep on Monday night at 7 PM. That was ignoring the fact that I got nearly 8 hours of sleep Sunday night and should have been fine.
Tuesday found me with a little bit of a voice and a stuffy head but I went to work. Actually put in a long day then got my hair done but, when I got home, I was toast. It was early to bed with a promise to myself that if I didn't feel better in the morning, I was calling in sick.
Wednesday morning wakeup found me feeling even worse. I called in, read the paper then went back to bed until 10:40 AM. Still felt like crap. Body aches, dry cough and extreme fatigue.
Thursday morning was even worse. My morning nap lasted until after noon. George was giving me looks like, "What the hell? Is sleeping all you do? You're not a cat, you know." I didn't even take a shower.
I finally decided to take my temperature that night and it was 101. No wonder I felt like crap. I dug in the medicine cabinet for my aspirin. It expired in 2007 (I told you I don't get sick often). I took three and got my temp down to 100. That didn't last long, it was soon back to 101.
Friday morning was day three of no work. We have a policy (that I later learned was "may" instead of "must") where the manager requests a doctor's note if you're out for three days in a row so I scheduled an appointment with my doc. I probably would have done it anyway since I wasn't getting better.
Now, some people have doctors who give them pain pills and antibiotics and other good stuff all the time. Not my dude. He usually tells me that I need to lose weight and exercise and that's about it. This time, he told me it looked to be a virus and I needed to let it run its course. However, he gave me a prescription for a Zpac and told me to fill it on Sunday if I didn't feel better.
Since I don't believe in taking antibiotics unless necessary, I grilled him on what defined feeling better. First, he said if you're coughing up green stuff then take it. Then, he said if you're not feeling better then take it.
Any thought I had about trying to work was negated by my post-doctor's visit grocery store trip. I did buy updated pain reliever but only after I knocked a bottle of jam on the floor (they were very nice about that and told me "Sweetie, don't worry about it. We'll clean it up.), walked so erratically in the aisle that a guy ran in to me, forgot half of what I wanted to buy and spent five minutes in a dazed mental debate on whether sugar free cough drops with Aspartame were better or worse than the regular ones with sugar. Let's just say, I was relieved to make it home safely.
The only bonus of this was that I lost eight pounds in four days. That's what happens when you only eat raw fruit and vegetables (because cooking is too much effort) and drink orange juice and water. Thank the gods, I inherited the cooler from our hotel room with the remainder of the Mimosa mixings. The orange juice is almost gone, the Champagne is still there.
Friday night found me at rock bottom. The fever was cooking my body. I could literally feel my eyeballs baking in their sockets. I contemplated calling someone to come take care of me. And, by taking care, I mean putting cold compresses on my eyes, serving me ice cream (which they would have to buy since I forgot it at the store) and even feeding me the ice cream.
I didn't call anyone because it would have required unlocking the door and putting on some sort of acceptable clothing. Instead, I lay on the couch with a cold, damp wash cloth on my eyes and listened to the Suns' comeback against the Spurs before shuffling back to bed where I just laid there, too tired to move but unable to sleep anymore.
It was pathetic.
Steven, The Rocket Scientist and I had plans to see Iron Man 2 on Saturday morning. I told both of them that I wouldn't go if I were still feverish. Steven called my bluff and said I would go anyway (he was probably right) but I woke up with a temperature of 98.8. Good enough for the movies, I thought.
I took some new aspirin, put a couple of cough drops in my pocket and went to the theater. I should have taken more cough drops but made it through the movie. I got home and fell asleep on the couch, only waking when my drooling on the pillow made its way to my conscious being.
I felt pretty good, considering, and thought for sure that the worse was behind me. I found the energy to go to the store, dust and vacuum the living room , do laundry and put clean sheets on the bed. Clearly, I was on the mend. Finally!
Ah, the hubris of mortals.
I woke up Sunday morning with coughing that could potentially break a rib. No fever though so I went with Steven and my parents to the DiamondBacks game. First baseball game in my adult life that I did not have a beer at. Shorty told me during the game and later at their house, "You need to fill the prescription" as I was now suffering from a constantly running nose and a deep cough.
I agreed and stopped at Walgreen's on my way home. Of course, the Walgreen's pharmacy between my parents' house and mine is not open at 8 PM on Sunday night so I had to wait until Monday to get my drugs. Well, I could have driven to another Walgreen's but, frankly, I didn't have the energy.
Monday morning came around and I still didn't have a fever so I went to work. I've heard that's how you know you're no longer contagious. Despite taking Dayquil, my nose would not stop running. I burned through a tissue in a meeting with my manager and VP and the VP finally broke out a packet of Kleenex he bought in Asia on his last business trip and made me take it. It's cute!
Got my Zpac at lunch and took the first two. The rest of the day was spent blowing my nose and coughing. I did go to bed before 9 PM and slept until 8 AM so my body still craved sleep.
Tuesday was better. No running nose but my cough now sounded like I was hacking up a lung. Or at least, breaking up a lung. I felt good, though.
Today was a constant improvement. The coughing got progressively better to the point where I haven't coughed much at all since I got home. My head is clear and I'm not beat.
I think I'm over the hump. I will take my drugs until they're gone though.
My pals are not doing much better than I. We've got a few H1N1 victims from the weekend, a couple of bronchitis sufferers and lots of people with my somewhere between a cold and a flu symptoms. It's not enough to call in the CDC but it sure is suspicious.
That weekend spread disease to Utah, Iowa, Washington DC and California. I was reminded of Stephen King's The Stand.
Of course, missing work at a busy time sucks but the Social Butterfly was dying at all the missed events. TRS and I were supposed to go to Tucson for a party but I called that off. I could have done a charity poker tournament, a club happy hour and a friend's birthday party but I just wasn't up to any of that. It kills a little bit of my Butterfly soul to miss events.
Hopefully, I'm truly on the mend but I'm still taking it slow. I have happy hour plans for tomorrow night but nothing on the books for Friday. A quiet evening at home may be in the works just to make sure whatever attacked me is really gone.
