And then this morning one of my least-favourite things happened when I ended up, after a night of coughing and suffocating and complaining, lying on a bed in the local hospital coughing and suffocating and complaining. Sigh.
I got a cold on Thursday, and as these things tend to go with me it was all very speedy progress from sore-throat stage to snotty stage to coughing up mucous stage, but then last night I found I could hardly breathe and I kept my shiny new husband awake all night coughing all over him and making him look distressed, and then my entire family (with whom I am staying at the moment) panicked a bit when I got out of bed (fair enough because I was looking fairly appalling and coughing up all sorts of vile globs of blergh) and, on finding out that all the doctor's offices in town are shut on a Saturday, whisked me off to hospital. Happily it was nothing like other hospital experiences I have had, and instead of sitting around waiting for 6 hours in the emergency ward, I was zipped straight in to see the doctor, diagnosed with this mysterious asthma that I got once about 6 years ago and that no one has seen hair nor hide of since (strangely it only seems to appear when I have a bad cold. Hmm ... I have a bad cold and can't breathe properly because of all the cold and the mucous and stuff, and ventolin helps. It must be asthma, mustn't it, because bronchodilation couldn't possibly be of assistance to someone without asthma who happens to have their *&^#*%ing bronchioles or whatever all chock full of goo, could it? Then again, what do I know? I just don't think someone happens to develop asthma mysteriously in their mid 20s and then only get a recurrence of it when they are having breathing issues anyway. Grr.) and then zipped back out again.
And so now, armed with some stupid Ventolin and a bottle of "Chesty Mucous Cough" medicine (nice name), I am allegedly back on track again. Which is just as well, because I have some relatively high-impact socialising to do this week what with my imminent departure from the golden soil of home.
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3 comments:
you too, huh? Everybody is sick these days.
Here's hoping for a speedy recovery to you (and me, and all the other sad, sick buggers) ;)
i've sent you an imaginary bunch of lilies for beside your sick bed. (or are lilies what you send the recently bereaved?) just pretend they're there. it's the thought that counts, right?
Aww, that's nice, Mischa. I just hoicked all the dead leftover flowers from the wedding, so some imaginary alive ones are a nice replacement.
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