Sick of Being Sick

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I know that Teachin’ wrote a post about being sick a week or so ago. But unfortunately it’s on my mind too because I am sick, I’ve been sick for a while now and I am just sick of being sick.

I was sick all through my school’s Christmas break. And now we’re back to school and I’m still sick. The sick interfered with my merry making during the holidays (not that I generally make all that merry – but hey I could have this year if I hadn’t been sick). And now the sick interfering with my New Year’s resolutions. I have brand new bought-at-the-after-Christmas-sale walking shoes, still in the box because working out hasn’t really been an option.

I don’t think I was the friend that Teachin’ talking to when he declared his profound truth “I like to get sick – because it makes me appreciate when I feel well.” I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me because I probably would have smacked him around a little bit. On his blog day Z was grateful for the “privilege of being sick.” I’m not saying that he isn’t right. We all need the bitter to appreciate the sweet; We need the storm to appreciate the calm; we need 3 1/2 weeks of sleep deprived coughing to appreciate that 6 hours of sleep a night really isn’t so bad. But I am coming up on a month now of being sick and if I don’t find a way to get some sleep soon it’s very possible that I could have a psychotic break. So let’s just say I’m feeling too immature to agree with Z today.

This particular sick has turned into a kind of nasty and persistent lung incursion. I’m having trouble catching my breath (which is why walking is problematic) and as I said, I’m doing a lot of coughing. I’ll spare you all the disgusting phlegmy details – sufficith to say that I have strong opinions about pretty much every kind of over-the-counter concoction, herbal or otherwise, they try to pass off as cold medication; and I’m sure I’ve killed off a fair portion of rainforest with the boxes and boxes of Kleenex I’ve used (well, Walgreen’s generic facial tissue actually).

The other day though, it got serious enough with the breathing issue (and I became psychotic enough with the not-sleeping issue) to take myself to the doctor to have them poke and prod and hold a stethoscope to my wheezing lungs. Well actually Ebay drove me since I really don’t have any business operating a moving vehicle right now.

It didn’t take the doctor long to agree that yes indeed, my lungs didn’t sound good. He put me on a nebulizer – a first for me. Ebay was out in the waiting room and since I wanted to let him know that he’d be waiting for a bit, I texted him from the exam room telling him that I was about to be breathing through a nebulizer.

“Cool.” Ebay answered. “A doctor approved Bong.”

“What do you know about bongs?” I texted back.

“Hey, I’ve seen Alice in Wonderland.” Ebay answered.

Well, hard to argue with Lewis Carol - plus he was pretty much right. My mind jumped to the caterpillar with the pipe too when the machine started up. But bong-inspired or not, this was a fabulous machine! Seriously, where has this been all my life? It was the first deep breaths I’d been able to take for weeks – it was glorious!

So now I have some good drugs – an antibiotic, an inhaler and some of that great cough medicine where I actually could get in trouble if I took it and operated a moving vehicle. And while I will be so relieved when phlegm dam (or is that damn phlegm?) finally breaks and I get better, I’m sorry to say that I just don’t think I’ll look back on this last month as a privilege.

But getting better will be something to be grateful for so I guess I can see Z’s point - at least a little bit. But I think that’s as mature as I can get until I get more sleep.