Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Yes, I live. Barely. Over the last week I've managed to plumb the depths of illness to it's murkiest abyss. A cold, a head cold, a sinus infections, chest cold, bronchitis and the threat of pneumonia. A quick run down should give a clear picture of what has bogged my down beyond the obvious health issues. There was the snow storm and the cold snap. The first wreaked havoc with the Daycare schedule and local roads, the latter caused a pipe to break at the manor and I had to deal with a multi-liter/second waterfall. The snow was not really snow, but frozen rain with sleet just to add to the fun. Our addle-minded DOT threw a load of salt on it to melt it and the overnight temperatures plummeted so the salty slush froze over into a deadly ice arena of curbed cars and tumbled SUVs. The bulk of the week was my constant battle with support phone calls regarding failed upgrades and peculiar situations that could only have come to pass by fingers being in places they should not be. This, of course, was denied through omission and "you can't prove that" type responses. Heap on top of that the skeleton crew of staff who actually made it though the Mad Max causeways to the office, you have a significantly frazzled individual. From what I was told, it was an all time record for inbound SOS calls.
Late Friday evening, the Parental Units ... GrandParental Units ... arrived and I collapsed into bed for the next 48 hours. Of course, any shift in my body at the time just caused the gallons of sputum to slog about my chest like molasses in a 55 gallon drum and sent me into a riotous hacking fit. I was admonished on multiple occasions by various parties that I should have taken care of this sooner. Egads, the hounding would most likely pursue me to my grave if I did not resolve this as soon as possible. I spent Presidents day in bed watching TiVo with the kids and making appointments with the blood-letters. I do not like going to the family practice. Other than my primary physician, I have never seen the same doctor twice whenever I visit. They change the staff there quicker than I can remember their names. Each one needs a primer course on my history since my medical file contains nearly 12 years of complaints. They need to bring it to the freezer room ... errr, patient room ... on a fork-lift. As a matter of course, my 9am appt turned into a 10am appt and I did not see an actual doctor till about 1030. When someone who could tell the difference between a Buick and a stethoscope did arrive, it was a matter of minutes before I was sent packing with 30 prescriptions clutched in my pestiferous hands. I took it all in stride and was even amused at the bewilderment when I supplied peculiar responses to their questions. Mostly regarding how I was dealing with the illness. You see, one look at me screamed 'Manual Laborer' ... coating of ash on boots, frayed jeans, durable Carhartt coat. Then they learn I'm a software jockey ... heh.
So, here I am sucking at two different inhalers and chowing down on the finest (and most bitter) pills the pharmaceutical industry has to offer. How has your week gone?