Yes. I know. I’ve been a bit quiet. A bit too quiet. Why? Well, it’s the holidays. Yes. I got my flu shot. Yes, I wash my hands – seems like a thousand times a day. Apparently, during the holidays (between November – December) of each year I appear to get sick with a case of my infamous bronchial asthma.
Last week, I awoke in the darkness of night coughing. I got up, used my inhaler and strolled back to bed. On Friday, I awoke feeling sluggish, having a bit of difficulty catching my breathing. I cancelled our Friday night date after dinner, telling Phil I felt weak and wanted to go home. He agreed. Saturday, I remained in bed or in the den, watching Hallmark Christmas movies. If you’re a woman and you have the two Hallmark channels, no doubt you understand what I watched. Girl cannot decide what she will do during the holidays. Will she go back home, or will she remain in New York, California, or maybe Georgia. She goes home. Meets an old flame. And blah. blah. blah. And off they go to a wonderful Christmas life. Really???
I suppose I’m a romantic. I LOVE those movies, and the oldies, but goodies. It’s A Wonderful Life. I imagine you have a few.
On Monday, I failed to clean the house. My coughing was almost non-stop. Early Tuesday morning I awoke to a strange growling, or was it roaring, noise inside the house. My body ached from head to toe, I was coughing, and coughing. Listening to the strange noise, I realized the squeaky roar was me. Every time I struggled to breathe, I heard roars of air struggling to get out. Phil called to check on me. At that time, I was OK. Later, as I fought to catch my breath, I realized I needed to make a doctor’s appointment. I went online to the Patient Portal, discovering I could book a late afternoon appointment, and so I did.
My doctor knows me well by now. He should. I’ve been a patient since the beginning of his practice now. Yesterday, I forgot to ask him how his daughter, Emily, was enjoying college life. When he knocked on the door and came inside, he looked at me. I suppose I must look like I’m knocking on death’s door. He asked how I was doing, and I muttered, “I’m sick.” He heard the rasping sound of my voice and when he listened to my chest he wanted to know how long I’d been sick. I replied: “Since the weekend.”
I should’ve made a bet with my friends, and on Facebook, simply because I knew I would win this bet, but –I’m not a better! I laughed at my doctor and I told him I knew what he would diagnose. Bronchial Asthma? Am I correct?
He laughed, letting me know it was a good thing that I made a doctor’s appointment. “You really are congested. Down. Deep.” He mentioned steroids. I nodded no. I can’t take Prednisone.
Today, I have an antibiotic I will take for 10 days. He gave me a shot, and prescribed something for my nebulizer. I can mix this prescription with the albuterol I take and I should get better. I certainly hope so.
Phil and I are supposed to go to a Christmas party tonight. Feeling the way I do at this moment, I doubt we’ll make it.
Why is it I always get sick at the holidays?
My husband knows how I detest dirty dishes left in the sink. I know I left a cereal bowl, coffee cup and spoons in the sink yesterday. He fed the dogs. Before going to bed, I went to the kitchen to wash all the dishes collected, but there weren’t any. Never did I ask him to wash them. Years ago, he let me know when we were out of clean glasses. I was pregnant at the time, with horrid morning and day sickness. Instead of starting a fight, I got up and washed every glass. Tonight, — poof – I suppose the magical fairy arrived to wash the dishes. It certainly wasn’t me, or — could it be — Phil? Would he actually wash dishes?
This man amazes me now when I’m sick. He actually is doing some of the things I do. You know…those Little Things! Fluffing the couch pillows where the dogs were resting. Picking up doggie toys. Washing dishes??? Maybe he’s learning a thing or two while watching Hallmark Christmas movies???
Perhaps I’ll continue watching Hallmark at Christmas time!