I forgot to mention yesterday that we did not get that middle-of-nowhere house. Sadly, we were second in line and the first in line folks got it. Thanks for the advice, by the way, about the perils of living in the middle of nowhere, but I grew up on a farm 8 miles from the nearest town of 1500 people so I'm well aware. We are continuing to look for something else though, the availability down here is the pits though.
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My illness took a turn for the worse last night as I lost my voice completely and stopped having the ability to breathe, which, as it turns out, is pretty crucial to one's peace of mind. I was forced to call in sick today and fortunately got an appointment at my doctor's office in the afternoon. The doctor felt that what he saw was 'not good'. He suspects whooping cough (although I've had all the shots, I'm not sure how that works) or bronchitis with a side of pleurisy so I've determined that I must be a character in a Laura Ingalls Wilder book because who gets whooping cough and pleurisy, come on! Anyway, he says I must not go back to work til Friday at the earliest depending on how the drugs work for me. He gave me mega antibiotics and a cough medicine because he's not exactly sure what's wrong so after a few days he'll be able to determine better what's wrong based on how well the medicine works.
The cough medicine is, sadly, Guaifenesin and Hydrocodone so if you try to call me in the next few days do not expect coherence. I used to enjoy being told that I had to take Vicodin for some illness, 'whee, Vicodin land!', but I most certainly do not anymore. Since the onset of the Mystery Illness (almost exactly a year ago and started with a head cold, but I'm not panicking. Ha!) I'm too frightened to take anything that may alter my state of consciousness, including alcohol and Vicodin is in a WHOLE OTHER LEAGUE so I'm petrified to take the first dose tonight. (Paul bought me Robitussin on the weekend and I wouldn't take any until he promised to lie on the bed and talk me down when I freaked out and that was after a 5 year olds dose.) Hm, the incoherence is beginning, isn't it, and I have only taken the antibiotics so far. Anyway, all drugs now induce the following conversation between me and Paul:
Me - (within 15 minutes of taking a totally appropriate amount of medicine for a legitimate medical concern) Paul, am I going to die?
Him - No, sweetheart you are not going to die, the medicine is just making you feel that way but you are fine, the medicine is helping and I'm right here.
Me - SWEAR to me that I'm not going to die.
Him - You're not going to die, honey, I'm right here.
Me - Do you SWEAR?!
Him - Yes, I swear, you're not going to die from a teaspoon of Robitussin.
Me - You're making fun of me while I'm DYING!
Him - You're not dying.
Me - Do you SWEAR?
4 comments:
I hope you feel better soon. I'm a little under the weather, but it's mostly stress and fatigue, the former causing the latter due to sleeping problems. Hope the job is understanding about your need to be off.
I'll check back in with you when I get back from out of town (funeral.)
8 miles from the nearest town is practically suburbia!
Oh you poor thing! I hope you feel better soon...and no you're not dying! I swear...I'm sure your poor body needs a rest after the stress of looking for a job/new place to live, recover from the miscarriage and then working your tush off...enjoy all the rest you can get and feel better soon!!
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