Thursday, June 23, 2011

What's That Old Saying about Best Laid Plans?

Yeah, I have no idea how it goes, but I'm sure it has something to do with failure.


I had all these plans for this week.  Good plans.  Fun plans.  Lots of hard work plans.....

But NOT this plan.

No.  No, no, no, no, no.  Not this plan.

It started with a couple of days of basic cold symptoms, achy ear, sore throat.  I had a feeling of dread, but figured it would go quickly as usual.  Wrong.

Those two days were followed with a general "I don't feel so good" day with a light fever and then a 12 hour lift.  Happy sigh.  And then.....BAM!   Four days of raging and delirious fever. I don't know about you, but I am too old for raging fevers.  103.7 is just too much.  It messes with my head.  It went something like this:

Day 1

Fever, chills, aspirin, ibuprofen, tylenol, sleep, sweats, fever, chills, aspirin, ibuprofen, tylenol, sleep.....   Then it got dark.  I spent the night on a boat.  No, not a nice boat--one of those homemade boats you see on live chopper news video where the Coast Guard is pulling Cuban refugees from Florida coastal waters.  

I've never been to Cuba, so I don't know how I got on that boat.  I confess that I watched/slept through a few episodes of Dexter that day.  I'm thinking some of those show scenes mixed in deep down inside me with my unspoken and unrealized desire to see Key West in person.  I never made it.  And I spent DAYS on that boat.  It would get dark and cold, the waves were torture.  I was soaking wet, shaking and miserable.  Then, the waters would calm and the sun would come out.  The blistering ball of fire that left me sprawled in that boat with my fellow refugees.  Day, night, day, night, cold, wet, hot...
Yeah.  You see it now! 

Totally delirious in my feverish condition, I made it to morning, no closer to a Key West sunset than I was the day before. 

Day 2

Fever, chills, aspirin, ibuprofen, tylenol, sleep, sweats, fever, chills, aspirin, ibuprofen, tylenol, sleep.....   Then it got dark.  And stormy.  (Really.)   I listened to the rain and winds, thinking of my son who was visiting his cousins in Memphis--going to Beale Street.  Did he make it in that storm?   Was he in the storm right now???  Pure panic hit me, which is not my usual state of mind during stormy weather.  All I could think about was flashes of lightening, wet pavement, sliding cars.....and death.  Yep.  Had myself a feverish freak-out.  I slept little that night, but thankfully, I was no longer on a boat. 

Day 3 and Day 4

More of the same and they just both ran together.  I don't remember anything about those days.   I think I gave up. I vaguely remember a Hoarder's marathon via Netflix and now I'm thinking I have OCD tendencies and I'm on my way to an intervention.

That's when the coughing started and the wheezing. I hate coughing.  If you are a mom in your 40's and have delivered more than two babies, you know why.  That's the subject of another confessional post that I'm just not ready for right now. 

But hey, let's not forget about the wheezing.  Wheezing scares me.  It sounds like death.  When I start wheezing, I want a doctor and I want one NOW.  I don't care that it's Sunday afternoon.  So, on the afternoon of the 4th day of fever (which was winding down, finally--the fever, that is) I dragged myself out of bed and into Walgreens to see the NP in their nice little Take Care Clinic.  It was wonderful.  No wait, no fuss, just a caring NP.  She gave me a bag full of drugs and sent me on my way in just a little over an hour.  The best part?  She doesn't think I have pneumonia, but she gives me the biggest antibiotic pills I have ever seen, just in case.  You know, because my oxygen sats are a tad low, I'm looking pretty delirious, and

I can't breathe. 

That was Sunday.  Today is Thursday.  I still can't breathe, but the wheeze is a bit better.  No more raging fevers.  And no more boats and flying bodies thrown from rainy highway car accidents. 

I think I'm gonna make it.

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