My so-called Invincible Woman status is gone. I've been sick all week with some type of mild upper respiratory infection (is there a such thing as a lower respiratory infection?? You never hear about those...). I started having dodgy breathing patterns two Fridays ago, and by last weekend, I could barely struggle a full breath into my poor lungs. I even called out sick last Monday so I could high-tail it to the doctor's office.
I was diagnosed with some gobbledy-gook medical term that I didn't quite understand, and the good doc prescribed some antibiotics and a (we-think-it's-safe-for-the-baby) inhaler. Uh-uh. No way I'm pumping my body full of drugs if I've only got a mild infection. After all, I'm the same woman who has been around extreme sickness for the last several months without even issuing a cough. I can beat this thing with my own superior immune system. Surely.
Not so much. My lung membranes are seemingly lined with mucus, and I'm constantly a-hem-ming to clear my chest cavity out so I can breathe normally. The constant use of the space heater in my room at night led to four nosebleeds in a two-day period. My sore, aching body craves a warm bath every single time I visit the bathroom. My state of being right now is pretty sad, but for the 2-Benadryls-a-day I've been popping to keep the congestion under control. Thank goodness for those tiny pink pills. And yes, they are (they-think) safe for baby.
It's not quite 10pm yet, and just the mention of a warm bath has made me happily consider it. I think I deserve one, considering the back pain and sore stomach muscles (oh right! and lack of breathing!) I've been putting up with. And I decided to go ahead and get that prescription filled today, too, since my body has not yet fought off whatever ails me. But, seeing as everything else is failing me these days, it only figures that I'm also insane in the brain...I left the prescription inside the rental car I returned last week.
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