Ugh. I'm sick. But I'm getting well. I swear I am. It started with a cough last week, then a sore throat, and I kept thinking it was going to pass, but the weekend came and I got worse. And worse. Finally, on Monday, I decided to see a doctor... and then realized it was Memorial Day. Of course it was! My timing has always been impeccable when it comes to all things medical.
Cursing myself for not thinking about this before, I started calling around to urgent care clinics. Closed. Closed. Closed. Closed. ARRRGGHHH! Finally, I found one, not too far away, that opened at 10 a.m. So clutching my handful of Kleenex, eyes running and throat raw, I stood before their door at 9:50, doing everything but peeing to mark my territory so the other three people who came early and looked just as wretched as I did would know that this was MY door, that I was first in line, and they'd better stay back because I was getting the first doctor. I was pretty sure my life depended on it.
Not even an hour later, prescriptions filled and back at home, I continued the misery of the last three days, but with a probable diagnosis (strep) and with a course of action (I'm a girl who loves an action plan). The rest of Monday went by. Still bad. Same with Tuesday. I kept looking for signs of recovery, and I found small ones. My sore throat was abating, and the rate at which I was using tissues was slowing. But my mean cat, who always seems to know when I'm really sick, wouldn't leave my side, so I knew this was still serious. Or else she was just terribly worried nobody would want her if I passed in my sleep.
Here it is, Wednesday morning. My vocabulary has returned; hence this blog. And one hot hot shower and a piece of toast later, I'm starting to feel human again. Ugh. I'm sick. But I'm getting well. I swear I am.
