This illness has driven me to drink!

Orange juice! Lots and lots of the OJ! This last week has been confusing. Mostly just because I'm sick but I don't feel like I have a cold, you KNOW when you have a cold. I've nearly coughed up a lung, gotten winded if I moved faster than a snail, and my throat could be best described as a vibrant fire engine red. Last week when I went in for my yearly poking and prodding the doctor just said, "eh, a chest cold. By the way, you most likely have exercise induced asthma, here's a script for an inhaler. Call me if it gets worse." Now I love my doctor, and yes, I do need an inhaler and it's helped yadda yadda, but there was this unpleasant foreboding in the air. The cold, icy air that continued to rip my lungs to bits of shred. I imagine my lungs like a piece of paper in a five year olds hands anxious to make a bajillion snowflake cutouts. A five year old jerk.

Five days later and I have no voice, can't NOT cough, and generally just want to curl up in a ball and wimper. A hug from my mom would probably make me feel better. Illnesses have a way of making you feel like a kid again, and it's makes your mom treat you like a kid again. I'm not going to fight it. But I still don't feel like I have a cold! Seriously! I really am baffled by this one. So I called off work today (sorry Kathryn!) and poor Kathryn had to cover for me. It's the first time I've ever called off sick since I started there last May so I think they believe me when I say I'M ILL! I dragged my sorry self up the hill to my doc's office and got some of those antibiotics! Hooray! She also ordered me off work for the rest of the weekend as I'm contagious and all, and I had the distinct displeasure of having to break that news to my manager. She was less than thrilled. I didn't even get the obligatory well wishes, just a long sigh and "well...we'll just have to figure something out". That really helped. Illness with a generous heaping of guilt. I don't think customers want their lattes with a side of strep. Just sayin', that costs extra.

So my pile of medicines, my cold cocktail if you will, was swept off my coffee table to be replaced with a shiny, boxed, beacon of hope. Something I can't pronounce but that just makes it seem all the more valid. It has a "z" in it so that's how I know it's all business. So here's to feeling better (holding up a glass of orange juice) !