Notice I didn't say "having fun with the flu." This post could also appropriately be titled, "Making the Most of a Miserable Situation." Trying to keep it positive. Which is why I'm writing this post...to keep from going crazy out of my mind. I do think I'm healing, which I'm so thankful for after the last few looong days. I at least have the energy to feel like writing. My congestion is clearing up, my aches are much less, I don't have a fever, and my violent coughing episodes are decreasing. And I am PRAISING THE LORD I did not get Kevin's strep. But let's back up and talk about that last symptom....
I think I CRACKED MY RIB from coughing!!! Not. Fun. At. All. It hurts when I breathe, move, cough, laugh, or get sick. If you've ever had a rib injury, you know it's not a good one to have - no relief.
How do I know I probably did this? Because two and a half years ago I had bronchitis for the first time and did it then...6 weeks before my wedding!!! Wow. I have an amazing track record...and apparently don't know my own strength! I think God appreciates my sense of humor (because, well, He gave it to me!), and just wants to make sure I have plenty of material. :)
So I guess this whole post is inspired by the other night when I couldn't sleep. I walked around aimlessly trying to pray and will my symptoms away. (Kevin has been amazingly compassionate about getting up with me, by the way!!) For some reason the only thing that made me feel better was thinking about and making jokes out of my horrific experience at Immediate Care when we found out I had the flu. It was so bizarre and tramatic that it's funny.
It was about 8:30 Thursday night and they close at 9, so not many people were there. I was sweating my guts out in the waiting room because I had taken 2 Tylenol, which were starting to break my fever. Finally, this 20-something, girl-next-door looking, no-
Then she came straight at me with the other one - same sort of nightmare. I pulled my head back quickly and Kevin said, "Do you think you could be more gentle?" (He's not a big fan at this point.) She shrugged her shoulders and said, "Sure." (No, actually, I don't think she can.) When she left I burst into tears. It was just awful. I was sick out of my head, overwhelmed, and felt like a 12 year old being bullied by the mean girl! I have thought many times since then all the wonderful things I maybe should have said to her, or maybe should compose in a "friendly" note. Which I will not be sharing here, because it's not quite Christ-like. (Use your humor for good, Page.)
(Now this is funny...I see a Christmas present in her future! ha ha.)
I'd like to say that was the end of it, but then the eccentric doctor came in. In the midst of diagnosing me and making me wear a mask so as not to contaminate anyone else, he told us all about evolution, the strong surviving, and something having to do with penicillin and war (it was WEIRD). Then SHE came back in with a sharply pronged instrument to check for strep...you can imagine - she crammed that thing down my throat and I thought I would lose my mind.
Thankfully, I didn't...well, you can be the judge of that. As we walked out I made some sort of joke about how the experience had been enlightening, entertaining, and painful. For all to hear of course. Come to think of it, I'm going to wish I had a picture of that ridiculous night some day. For now, please continue to enjoy my Adventures in Fluville for me. Because I am praying for the first ticket out of here.
Come back tomorrow or Wednesday. There's so much more to this story. And trust me...you're going to LOVE it!!!