Today, the 2 1/2 week mark of me being seriously sick has been hit. I don't know how my body is physically handling this, but somehow with little to no sleep I am finding the energy to go to work full time. "No, sleep? Why you should be getting plenty of rest, woman!", some of you may say. Darling, I do not enjoy this lack of sleep. I am exhausted and sleepy beyond belief, but between fevers and coughing fits every 10 minutes, it seems impossible for me to get some shut eye. I finally got the right medicine, antibiotics, and at least my fever finally broke. But this cough...this dry, painful, repetitive cough is leaving me drained.
I was convinced a few days ago I had the consumption or something. Yes, I called it consumption and not tuberculosis. Why? Well I'm feeling old and sort of like I live in the wet cold streets of Limerick, Ireland. Like I'm laying on some old blankets, by a dwindling fireplace and my bones can sense the fog settling in. That being said, I also feel like Doc Holliday. Rising every day and being pretty much a badass while I'm coughing up a lung and I have a foot in the grave. Ok, so maybe I'm not actually dying but humor me, I feel like a huge pile of turd-like things.
That being said, I am going to drink 2 more Tylenols to ensure the early demise of my inner organs and I'm hitting the warm shower. Then, I shall bundle up like I have been the past couple of weeks and try to catch some shut eye before the cough gets worse. Och, aye. These poor bones. I leave you with some Chopin.
You know...Frederic fucking Chopin.
I was convinced a few days ago I had the consumption or something. Yes, I called it consumption and not tuberculosis. Why? Well I'm feeling old and sort of like I live in the wet cold streets of Limerick, Ireland. Like I'm laying on some old blankets, by a dwindling fireplace and my bones can sense the fog settling in. That being said, I also feel like Doc Holliday. Rising every day and being pretty much a badass while I'm coughing up a lung and I have a foot in the grave. Ok, so maybe I'm not actually dying but humor me, I feel like a huge pile of turd-like things.
That being said, I am going to drink 2 more Tylenols to ensure the early demise of my inner organs and I'm hitting the warm shower. Then, I shall bundle up like I have been the past couple of weeks and try to catch some shut eye before the cough gets worse. Och, aye. These poor bones. I leave you with some Chopin.
You know...Frederic fucking Chopin.
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