Friday, July 2, 2010

Sick with death.

3 entries into my new blog and I had to take a break. Not necessarily a voluntary break, but a break because I was sick with death. While fighting death, my beloved Pinot sat and chilled in my refridgerator. But Pinot and I are happily reunited tonight.

That being said, I don't know the real medical name for death. I'm waiting for my chest x-ray to come back. But I'm feeling a lot better. I mentioned in some of my previous posts that my sinuses were all clogged and my head felt like it was going to explode. So I thought it was simply another sinus infection. I woke up Wednesday feeling like a fish out of water. I was having a hard time breathing. My chest felt really tight and I was short of breath. But I took more generic store-bought sinus pills, used the nebulizer every 4 hours and tried my best to keep up my motherly responsibilities to Tubs and Ozzy. By the time B came home from work, I was bawling my eyes out and telling him I needed to go lay down. And he let me take it easy. I kept up my medicines and spend the rest of the day relaxing. I hardly got any sleep Wednesday night because I developed a cough. And not just a cough, a cough that came from the very depths of my lungs. It was a long, hard, deep, painfil cough that came in fits that lasted for what seemed to be forever. And it hurt SO BAD. And every time I was just about to finally sleep, a coughing fit would happen. When my husband woke up on Thursday morning, 15 minutes into getting ready for work, he declared "There is absolutely no way I can go in to work and leave you here to take care of Nathan. You sound like you're dying." and I felt like it, too. He called into work, let me lay down, and woke up with Nathan and took care of him all day. I decided that since the pills weren't working and neither were the breathing treatments with the nebulizer, I had to go to the doctor. So I called and made an appointment and went.

They had to do chest x-rays, which means I had to take my shirt and bra off. Fine. They took 2 x-rays, I got dressed, and was sent back to the room. 2 minutes later, the assistant came in again and said she needed to take the x-rays again because they came out too light. I could hardly breathe, but fine. Went back to the x-ray room, took my shirt and bra off again, and took the x-rays. I got dressed again, opened the door, and the assistant was there again saying "Nope, we have to do it again." SO, repeat. And another time. And then after 4 takes of my x-rays, I was finally, for the last time, sent back to my room. The x-rays had to be sent out to a radiologist, but in the meantime, the doctor prescribed me an inhaler, anti-biotics, told me to get Robitussin Max, and keep up the breathing treatments. She said if I got any worse, I'd have to go to the hospital. She was actually a bit surprised I hadn't already gone to the hospital, but growing up with asthma, I didn't think it was as severe as it was. But luckily, it didn't get worse. But I didn't feel any better at ALL yesterday. I spent my entire day in bed either reading "Murder of a Botoxed Blonde" or napping.

Murder of a Botoxed Blonde by Denise Swanson
The book was actually kind of slow in the beginning and had I not be so sick and unable to move, I probably would have put it down and grabbed a different book from my stash, but I'm glad I read it while I was sick and unable to move, because it ended up being pretty good! I like the title, though. It's catchy.

My lovely husband spent the entire day catering to Tubs, Ozzy, and I. And even though I was deathly ill (as I mentioned, it felt like death! Which is why I've called it death...until I find out what it is/was.), it was still pretty nice to just lay in bed for once.

I woke up this morning able to breathe. It was a nice relief. I still have the cough, though not as frequent, but MY COUGHING MUSCLES HURT SO BAD! I'm pretty sure that once my cough is completely gone, I will have a 6 pack. Which, I guess is a nice perk to the death that I have thus far survived.

The not so great part? B thinks he's getting it now. Which sucks. I really really really hope Tubs doesn't get it!

Because seriously, who would want to see this awesome guy all sickly? Not me! I love my happy, amazing, awesome, fantastic, entirely too well-behaved, handsome little man.

Also, my dog treat business to help cover the outrageous medical costs of Ozzy's eye suffered a little bit because of my being ill. I wasn't able to make it to the post office (or bake some of the treats! I'm going to have to bake my butt off this week!) and I feel so bad, so I sent an e-mail to all the purchasers apologizing for the delay and including a $5 store credit for any future purchases they may want to make. I'll write more about Ozzy's eye later. But I just feel so bad. OH well, what can ya do?

Anyways, I'm off for the night. Going to take my last dose of Robitussin for the night, as well as a breathing treatment, pick out another book from my stash, and lay down. Good night!

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