It’s my fault. Really.
I jinxed myself. If such a thing is possible. And it’s because I was bragging about how I wasn’t getting sick.
See, according to Timehop, around this time each year, I’m usually sick or getting over some kind of illness. Usually it begins around Christmas. It’s usually a variation on the common cold: sore throat, runny nose, sneezing, coughing… and the coughing generally lasts a few weeks.
Christmas of 2017 came and went with nary a sniffle on my part. I was around family and friends who were all exhibiting symptoms of anything ranging from flu to stomach viruses (viri?). And I didn’t catch a bit of it.
Then last Saturday happened. No… not this past Saturday. The Saturday from the week before. Out of nowhere, I’m coughing like it’s my job. There was no sore throat to warn me of impending illness. There were no sinus issues. Just a cough. For starters.
I mean, a couple days later, there were a few sinus issues. Lots of sneezing for about a 12 hour period. But it never left my chest. The coughing persisted. For over a week.
So a friend/co-worker at church this past Sunday insisted that I go to the doctor. Well, I’m stubborn. I don’t have a regular physician. In the past ten years, in the rare occasions that I’ve felt the need to see a doctor for anything at all, I go to the local urgent care. It’s served me well thus far. Why stop now?
But I didn’t want to even do that. See, I’ve never fully tested out my current health insurance provider. When I started working for the church, I kind of had to go out on my own to find coverage. And what I got may or may not be equivalent to the cheapest thing I could find and may or may not be slightly sketchy. Seems to work in some situations, but not so much in others.
Well, Julie’s momsense kicked in and she made the argument that, even though I “knew” I had bronchitis, it could turn into pneumonia and I could die. Well, paint a picture like that…
So I went to the urgent care, knowing they’d be open on a Sunday afternoon. And, open they were. So many multiple flu patients. I knew I didn’t have that. No aches. No fevers. Actually, they really didn’t run any tests on me. Listened to my breathing for a bit and then got me to describe my symptoms. Guess what they diagnosed me with…
I could be a doctor. No… I should never say that. Even if I actually had the knowledge it takes to be a doctor, that’s just too much responsibility.
They gave me a steroid shot of some kind. And the nurse who gave it to me was amazing. I didn’t feel a thing. I’m pretty sure I actually thanked her. Oh, and as I was leaving and she told me she hoped I felt better soon, I said, “Thanks, you too!”
So, on top of all this bronchitis, I now have to find a new urgent care to go to in the future. Because I can never face her again.
They wrote me four prescriptions to “aggressively” treat the bronchitis. Two different meds in pill form, a cough syrup that allegedly tastes like “pineapple” (if you decide you want to call evil extract “pineapple”), and an inhaler with a generic form of something I can’t remember at the moment.
In my adult life, I’m pretty sure the only time I’ve needed a prescription for anything was when I got my wisdom teeth taken out and they gave me some nifty painkillers. Did I even get that filled or did I just decide to take a bunch of Advil. Pretty sure I went that route. So, with the bronchitis, I guess I’m making up for never getting prescriptions before.
And I never want to do it again. The inhaler alone was $90. Total, I spent $150 on drugs. Drugs that I’m not 100% convinced are helping me. Because I was told by the doctor who “examined” me that this bronchitis will last 4-8 weeks with coughing fits coming further and further apart until, eventually, they just disappear.
But, I paid the money. So I’m taking the dang meds. And they’re screwing with my life. They all warn of drowsiness. And that drowsiness is messing with my sleep schedule. When I got home from our staff retreat this afternoon, I was worthless. I was in bed before 6:00 p.m. I woke up 3.5 hours later. I’m approaching 11:00 now and I’m wide awake.
At the same time, as awake as I am, I’m too groggy to do anything really productive. I know if I try to read something, I’ll end up reading the same paragraphs eight times with zero comprehension. I could count writing this blog post as something productive. But you guys don’t know how many times I’m having to go back and correct misspellings and typos. The drugs are having no effect on the gunk in my lungs, but they are tripping my brain out.
I once wrote a post about how to make bronchitis fun. I look back at that and realize those are the silly ideas of someone who just doesn’t understand. What a fool I’ve been. But it’s always fun to hear Sweet Brown describe her ordeal.