My lungs are trying to kill me

"An apple a day keeps the doctor away." No, actually it doesn't. Not when your respiratory system is trying to kill you. I spent the entire weekend hacking up my lungs and slipping in and out of fever-induced comas.




Friday

I woke up coughing. And it felt like someone was trying to scoop my brain out of my skull with a rusty spoon. "No big deal," I thought. "I'm sure it's just stress." Of course as the day wore on, and oh how it did wear on, I was beginning to doubt that theory. Having a full weekend ahead of me, I took some Dayquil and went to work. After work, I went to see 'Fiddler on the Roof' on the lawn at the Performing Arts Center with Michael. Well, it turns out that sitting on the cold ground in front of the river, breathing its damp air for three hours didn't exactly help my condition. Michael took pity on me and we went to the store for medicine before I went home (at his suggestion. Apparently, I looked dead.) I stumble in my front door and collapse on my bed. I had just enough time before my plague took over to take my temperature. 103F. Of course.

Saturday

After a full night of high fevers, migraine induced tears and the inability to breath, it's morning. More medicine. It's now about 3pm. Sleeping this late would normally concern me, but seeing as i was entering into hour 14 of my head trying to implode, I let it go. I crawl out of my room, stand in the kitchen for some 20 minutes, and crawl back to bed. It's 6 now. Time for soup. I choke down about 1/3 of a cup, and now it's time to sleep more. A thoroughly productive Saturday.

Sunday

I wake up again to hacking my lungs out. This time was a real treat, though. I'm now coughing up blood. Maybe it's time to go to the doctor. Go to work. Endure another 5 hours of fever and migraines. Go home and sleep. This really fucking sucks.

Monday

After an hour and a half waiting to see the doctor, I and diagnosed with walking pneumonia. Hooray! Another hour, and a very awkward x-ray later, I'm at the pharmacy. My medicine won't be ready for 5 hours. Apparently it take 5 hours to put 7 antibiotic pills into a bottle. I should've figured at much.

5 hours (and $130 later) I have my medicines. I can finally stop my lungs from choking me with my own blood. But not before I take my antibiotic (which makes me wretch violently).


This is pretty much my life for the next 6 days. I'm mostly okay now. I'm fucking broke and still coughing, but at least I'm better? I guess? Fuck this cold.