I can explain why I haven’t been around lately with one word: Brochitis. I can count on one hand the times I’ve had bronchitis in my life and it happens so infrequently that I forget how totally fucked up it is to find myself trying to cough up everything that I own. At first, I managed to catch the cold Linda had; she got better, I went straight downhill, from blowing my nose so much I went through two boxes of tissues in a single day… to doing my best to cough up my nuts and anything else the coughing could shake loose. I wound up going to a med unit – it was closer than traveling the two miles to our doctor’s office, got into a bit of a pissing contest with the PA that eventually saw me, but walked out with an antibiotic and cough syrup that, eventually got rid of the worse of my symptoms.
Having the symptoms is bad enough for me; worse is actually getting better. In the last week (and not counting last night), I’ve gotten a grand total of maybe ten hours of sleep because my body wants to keep coughing up stuff; it was getting so bad that I’d wind up getting out of bed and trying to sleep on the sofa just trying not to disturb Linda’s sleep anymore than I already had. It didn’t help that if I wasn’t waking myself up coughing, I’d have our cat, Zane, lying and snoozing on my chest and stomach; the first night, I felt something heavy on my chest, it was hard to breathe and I needed to hack up the phlegm in a bad way. I opened my eyes… and there’s our gray eyed cat staring at me all up close and personal – and not of a mind to move despite my efforts to sit up. If she wasn’t on my chest, she was camped out on my legs/feet, making eh effort to sit up and spit out the gunk… interesting. I guess that after getting cussed out a few time, Zane decided it was best to sleep anywhere but on me.
Being ill, I’ve not been motivated to write and I’ve barely managed to stay current with those of you I follow and, honestly, after finally getting eight hours of uninterrupted sleep, today’s the best I’ve felt in a while. It hasn’t been without its funny moments, like the day I got up and washed and went to put my teeth in; I thought I had gotten them glued in properly so you can imagine my surprise when I coughed and both dentures flew out of my mouth and into the sink!
Today’s like maybe the third time since I got sick that I’ve had my dentures in, having learned that there’s a trick to spitting while wearing dentures. My mom suggested that I take a spoonful of honey to combat the cough that cough syrup can’t touch… except I hate the taste of honey and while it did help a little, having all that honey sitting in my stomach – and not dissolved in a cup of Tazo’s Passion tea, made me feel worse with an upset stomach on top of a killer headache from all the damned coughing. In the last week or so, I’ve been spitting gunk into one of those red cups to keep from hurting myself trying to get to one of the bathrooms; I’ve gone from half filling the cup during the day, washing it out, and half filling it at night to just having had to spit twice today… and that I still have my nuts makes me a very happy camper… but there were moments when I was sure I’d already hacked them up along with my lungs, liver, and at least one kidney.
My daughter, bless her heart, got in my ass over not getting a flu shot, pointing out to me that I’m not a young man anymore (like I needed her to remind me of that) and she wasn’t happy that I did get a pneumonia shot, which is what really worried me since I’ve had that before; it’s been over twenty years since I last had the flu – and I got it the only time I got the flu shot. But I knew I didn’t have the flu, nor did I have pneumonia… but bronchitis? Yeah, didn’t need a doctor (or a pissed off PA) to tell me that and, honestly? I’d rather have the flu…
I hopeful get back into the blog groove soon; I just wanted y’all to know what’s been going on that would explain my absence, okay?