Last Wednesday night, I felt bad. It felt like the beginnings of the flu, with muscle aches. I emailed work and told them I’d be taking a sick day. This is very unusual. I don’t usually decide until the morning. But I was pretty sure the night before.
Thursday morning I had chills, and that afternoon I spiked a fever. I felt so bad that I didn’t take Tylenol until Mr. Sandwich came home, because I needed him to get the Tylenol from the bathroom cabinet. Getting it myself was too hard.
Then I started throwing up. That was fun.
I took another sick day on Friday. Saturday evening, we went to urgent care. They said it was probably bronchitis, gave me antibiotics, and told me to see my regular doctor on Monday and stay home from work until Wednesday.
I felt too sick on Monday, but I made an appointment for Tuesday.
On Tuesday, our street was being slurry-sealed. That meant we had to park around the corner. It’s not too far, but it’s not as close as our actual driveway. I headed out to the car, and as I walked down the street, could not help but notice the four police officers and maybe a sheriff, plus the guy sitting in the back seat of one of the police cars. Possibly this explained the helicopters I’d heard earlier. I also realized that my wallet was not in my bag. Since the situation on the corner appeared to be coming to a close, I decided to check the car. My wallet wasn’t in the car. I went back to the house, just as the guy in the police car was allowed to get out of the police car. My wallet wasn’t in the house, either. That meant it was probably in the car Mr. Sandwich had taken to work (long story short, it was). But I didn’t want to drive to the doctor’s office without my wallet, and I didn’t want to walk back to the car. So I punted.
On Wednesday, my doctor gave me a new antibiotic and an inhaler. You know it’s going well when you get an inhaler. She also said that if I wasn’t feeling better on Friday, to call back and she’d send me for a chest x-ray.
I wasn’t feeling better. Weirdly, I kind of had to argue to get the chest x-ray. But I got it, and you know what?
I’ve got pneumonia.
I’ve also got yet another antibiotic (don’t worry, every time I get a new one, I stop taking the old one, AND I’m taking probiotics). And two days in, I’m still freaking exhausted and coughing. My left lung still feels like it’s stuck to itself when I breathe.
Now, mind you, through all of this, Baguette still needs to go to school. And while I may want to spend all day sitting on the couch, she really can’t. So there are still outings and whatnot.
But after stocking up on Chinese broccoli with oyster sauce, and then making minestrone, I have easy food for the next few days. So that’s good.
I remember, at my last job, forcing myself to work, thinking “I’ll get over whatever this is,” and finally deciding that I was having too much trouble keeping my eyes open at my desk & wasn’t getting anything done that I went to the doctor.
And got a chest x-ray.
And was almost admitted to the hospital with a nasty case pneumonia.
Here’s to a quick recovery (says the person who is trying to tell himself that he isn’t getting another breakout of shingles)
I keep thinking I’ll be able to go to work the next day, but by the evening, I’m pretty sure I won’t. (I did go to work two days last week, and worked from home another, but all of that was probably a mistake.)
I hope you don’t get shingles. Those sound awful.
I had shingles over the summer . . . at 37 years old, it was wholly unexpected – and it was HORRIBLE.
I think what I have going on now is a weird combination of fall allergies, fighting off whatever the kids bring home from school, and an acne breakout.
I hope you’re feeling better now!
Take good care of yourself! I know from experience also that you can’t just power through some things. This will take a while to recover from–longer than you think–and you want to make sure you don’t relapse.
I had pneumonia almost 20 years ago, and had a rescue inhaler for a year afterward–I didn’t have to use it every day, and sometimes not every week, but I did need it. I can’t remember how long I was exhausted for, but that’s partly because (a) I was almost 20 years younger, so it probably wasn’t for as long as it will be this time, and (b) I had an inhumane job at which recovery was not an option. Fortunately now I have supervisors who are emphasizing not relapsing.
John, good luck on the shingles! Once is bad enough!