I didn’t think I could get worse than what I felt yesterday. But you know, I can. It’s been proven.
I woke up at 5am while Kurt was feeding the baby, and I could not get back to sleep. Trying to hack up my lung and expel it out of my body probably had something to do with that. I came out into the living room to talk to Kurt and whined and whined about how crappy I felt. As soon as he got up to take Gracie to school this morning, he called the clinic and got me an appointment with someone in Family Practice for 9am.
I hauled my butt out of bed at 8am and managed to walk out the door at 8:40. That’s with a shower, getting dressed, drying and styling my hair, and putting on makeup.
Hey, I said I was sick. I didn’t say I was dead!
The clinic is run by the Navy, which means that most of the people who work there are sailors. All summer long, I’ve been used to seeing the sailors in their working whites, and I amused myself as I waited by imagining the creative ways they kept their whites pristine. But now we are in the winter season, which means they’ve changed to blues. Except they’re not blue, they’re black. And now there is a new uniform for enlisted folks. Instead of wearing the so-called Johnny Cash uniform (black long-sleeved shirt, black pants, black tie, and black oxfords), the enlisted are authorized what is being called the “black & tan.” It features an short-sleeved khaki shirt, open at the neck, with black pants and black shoes. I’ve already mentioned how it frustrates me that now the enlisted are authorized to wear khaki, which used to be reserved for Chief Petty Officers who had worked for years to earnt that privilege. It looks nice on the serviceperson, but it’s hard to read the collar devices to figure out what rank the person is. I’m used to seeing stripes or chevrons on a sleeve, which are visible from quite a ways away. Today I had to concentrate on how many stripes the corpsman who checked me in was sporting on his collar device.
Not that it matters. I’m just nosy, that’s all.
The nurse-practitioner that I saw was a Commander (O-5), who was seeing patients in her khakis. That surprised me. I thought most health-care workers wore scrubs instead of worrying about getting their $100-a-piece khakis dirty. As she felt my lymph nodes to see if they were swollen, I peered at her ribbons to see what kind of awards she’d gotten. She’s got her sharpshooter ribbon! Then again, I’m starting to think everyone has that ribbon. Everyone but my husband, that is.
And I finally met someone who’s got as many Navy Achievement Medals as Kurt does! He’s got seven, which is a lot. He always worries that someone will assume that he’s got the wrong stars on his ribbon (a large gold star and a large silver star to denote his six awards after the original one), but the lady who helped us with our new ID cards a couple of weeks ago had seven too.
She chalked it up to doing her job, and doing it properly. What a concept!
Anyhow, the Commander ultimately diagnosed me with a sinus infection, but said it wasn’t bacterial in nature so she didn’t want to give me antibiotics. I am a little foggy on how I have an infection that isn’t bacterial, but whatever. I don’t want antibiotics unless I need them anyhow. So the Commander prescribed me Sudafed, Mucinex (to make my coughs productive), and Cepacol cough drops. And amazingly enough, the Sudafed that the pharmacy dispensed to me is actual, honest-to-goodness Sudafed. None of that Sudafed PE stuff that doesn’t have the pseudoephedrine in it. I have the good stuff.
Maybe I shouldn’t trumpet that about. The meth addicts might find my house and steal my Sudafed from me to make more meth.
Once I got home, I laid on the couch and passed out. At some point I woke up and put on my jammies, and my makeup wore off with the massive tearing my eyes have been doing. Kurt was able to come home early for lunch so he could pick Grace up from school, and she cooperated fully in taking a nap so that I didn’t have to deal with her. That sounds awful, I know, but I can barely take care of myself right now, let alone Gracie too.
All I have been doing is laying on the couch and napping. My head feels like it’s six sizes too big, my nose runs, my brain aches, my throat hurts a little, and every so often I suffer sneezing and coughing fits. I have been drinking water like it’s going out of style because both the Commander and the pharmacist informed me that it is super easy to get dehydrated while taking the Mucinex, which would only serve to make me feel worse. I’ve finished three 20oz cups of water thus far, so I am hoping that is enough to stave off dehydration. I’ll probably have two more cups before bed tonight.
I am hoping that tomorrow I feel much, much better. I am not used to being this sick! In fact, I cannot remember the last time I was so sick that I just lazed around all day and slept. Every so often I’ll get a sore throat, or a stuffy nose, or something like that — but not this horrible multiplicity of symptoms. And to make it worse, my friend Bridget and my friend Angela are both sick, both of whom I went out with on Saturday night, so I have guilt that I caused their illnesses as well.
Tomorrow Grace has school photos, which means I have to get my act together and take her to preschool at some yet-to-be-determined time so she can be photographed. Plus I am paranoid that I will make poor Mary Ellen sick, and sick newborns are a scary and dangerous thing. I have been washing my hands and disinfecting them with hand sanitizer like crazy, sneezing into my elbow and making sure my coughs are covered, but I’m still concerned. She sounds a little congested, and I’m hoping that that’s as sick as she gets.
Keep your fingers crossed!!!