Well, I think I’ve survived the Bubonic Plague of 2015. Or maybe it was just a nasty cold. Either way, it has been a crappy couple weeks.
It started out with a sore throat and then it all went downhill from there. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t talk without coughing. Or sneezing. Or blowing my nose. My glands were swollen. My eyes were red and puffy and my tear ducts went into overdrive. In the morning, I couldn’t even open my right eye because it was glued shut with all the nasty Bubonic Plague-like germs that were circling my head like vultures.
And then I got really sick.
My fever spiked to a soaring 100 degrees.
What’s that, you say? A hundred degree temperature isn’t “soaring”?
Well, yeah, okay, you’re right. I admit that a 100 degree temperature isn’t a big deal. Especially not for me. There have been a number of times in my life when my fever was in the 105 degree range, edging toward 106 and, well, death, I believe. And, yes, fevers of this magnitude have necessitated more than one trip to the Emergency Room in my lifetime.
But, interestingly, as I’ve gotten older, any little bump in the internal thermostat and I feel miserable. Wonder why that is? Is it because we are older and wiser and we know that the Bubonic Plague can actually kill a person, while a spiking fever to a kid merely means getting out of a dreaded Math class?
I don’t know. But as an adult, I would gladly trade the germs for that dreaded Math class. And you should know that I really dreaded Math class.
I was surprised when I went to the doctor and heard that patients were coming to the office in droves with the same symptoms. Usually I’m aware when germs are on the rise and I know enough to step away from the sneezing, sniffling, stuffy-head-type people.
Not this time. Maybe it was because it was late May and I figured I had dodged the whole winter cold thing.
The worst part about it all was the coughing. I mean, I can deal with a sore throat. And I can – despite my complaining about it – deal with a slight spike in my temperature. But what I can’t deal with is the constant coughing. I’d just get settled into bed after having taken my shot glass full of Nyquil, when suddenly I’d sit straight up in bed wracked with a cough that seemed like it would never stop. Or I’d wake up from a sound sleep in a fit of coughing that made it hard to catch my breath.
Fortunately, the worst of it seems to be over. Now I just have a lingering cough that only occasionally wakes me up from a sound sleep.
So, thankfully, I’m on the mend from the Bubonic Plague of 2015.
…except that there are six more months in 2015 and there is always a chance that the New and Improved Fall Version of the Bubonic Plague of 2015 will introduce itself to a sinus cavity near you.
Hmm. Perhaps I need to make a drug store run. The medicine cabinet is looking a little bare these days. And I’m completely out of Nyquil.
Oh, and PS. I DID look up the definition of Bubonic Plague. Ewww. Maybe I shouldn’t exaggerate so much.
Speaking of which…don’t forget to tune in tomorrow when I discuss the spider I discovered in the bathroom. It was the size of a puppy...