Today – Monday – I’m ready for the firing squad.
I’ve had this lingering, horrific cough, congestion, flu-like symptoms for almost two weeks. Saturday, when I was getting out of the vehicle with the mail in my arms (including a box of complimentary copies of my newly published book), a magazine slipped off the box. I unknowingly stepped on it and unfashionably slid to the ground with my leg bent underneath me. It all happened in slow motion once my foot hit the magazine, but I was powerless to prevent the fall. Visions of broken bones flashed before me: everyone knows once a senior breaks a bone, the end is near. Not that I consider myself a senior, but sometimes I am, depending upon the guidelines of the day. Luckily, other than not being able to walk without pain, I was fine. Just pulled muscles, I guess.
Last fall I fell and twisted my foot, resulting in a swelled, black and blue ankle and horrific pain for a couple of days. Flashes of “the end is near” happened then, too. After this most recent episode, I’m deathly afraid of falling. Both were freak accidents, however, hopefully not to be repeated. I’m not THAT old that I have to be extra careful, but now I try to be, when I can remember to be, of course.
Two weeks of self-medication was enough for me, so my husband and I went to the doctor yesterday. My husband continually brags about being better than the rest of the populace and therefore immune to everyone’s ailments, but he still developed my symptoms on Friday. I didn’t want him sick, perhaps unnecessarily, for weeks like I was, so I convinced him to go to the doctor with me, hoping we could be prescribed something to nip his illness in the bud and improve mine. The doctor prescribed inhalers for each of us and an antibiotic for my husband.
If I hadn’t had my husband by my side last night, I might have had the best sleep in two weeks. However, he bobbed up from underneath the covers every few minutes to cough himself almost to death, so it wasn’t a peaceful sleep for either of us. He’s not feeling any better, nor am I. I’m worried I’m not using the inhaler correctly; the instructions look and say they’re easy, but the inhaler is reading two doses gone out of sixty, and I’ve used it at least six times. Now, on top of everything else, I have a sinus infection, which means back to the doctor if it doesn’t improve.
With this lingering sickness, I feel like I’ve wasted two weeks of my life. I haven’t seen my grandchildren in over five weeks (away three weeks and sick the other two) and I’m having horrific yearnings to hug and kiss them (even a quick glimpse of them would be nice), but I don’t want to give them my germs. They come down with enough illnesses of their own; they don’t need Granny’s.
So, shoot us both now (my husband concurs); put us out of our misery.