Remember that great weekend I had? Well, I can say with complete confidence that things went downhill from there. I started coughing a little on Sunday. No big deal. Monday, on the Day of Presidents of all days, I started to feel a tad bit on the achy side. I kind of felt like George and Abe let me down. By Monday night, I had a temperature of almost 101. Guess what? You haven't even heard the best part yet! I found out that same night that I had to report to jury duty Tuesday morning by 8:30. You can imagine my excitement.
After a very long, horrible night, I used every bit of will inside of me to get ready and drive to the courthouse. I then sat in a chair for four and a half hours (with only ONE ten minute break mind you) while a jury was selected for a trial. It might have been an educational experience for me if I hadn't been on death's doorstep the whole time. Let's just say I earned my $11 that day. As soon as they released us, I drove straight to the doctor where they commenced to sticking q-tips in both nostrils and down my throat. So I left with a prescription for an antibiotic and the assumption that I'd feel better by morning. Now, it couldn't be that easy, could it?
No. The next day I still felt awful. I stayed in bed all day except when the kids came home. When I knew they were on the way, I forced myself to run a brush through my hair, get dressed (kind of), and move from the bed to the downstairs chair. I just couldn't stand the thought of them coming home to me in the exact same condition as when they left that morning. I'm not sure I was fooling anybody though. Oh no, the story doesn't even end there.
I woke up Thursday morning with a hot, red swollen face. I was a vision of loveliness. I didn't take any pictures so just trust me on this one. Somehow that half an eyebrow became the least of my problems. If you know me, then you may know I tend to overreact in the area of health issues. Some refer to it as hypochondria. I just knew that somehow my swollen face in addition to all of the other symptoms must all be some horrible unidentified disease lurking in my body. Turns out, the doctors just think it was a reaction to the first antibiotic. That seems like the logical conclusion to draw, but when have I ever been logical?
I'm happy to report that I worked two full days this week with my chipmunk cheeks, and even though my face is still swollen, it is no longer red and hot. I still can't sleep at all due to all of the coughing, but I am no longer feverish and achy. I must be on the mend. At least that's what they tell me.
When I finally went back to school, one of my student's parents said she had been really worried about me because I hadn't posted anything on Pinterest in days! I think maybe that's an indication that I usually spend too much time on Pinterest. I must have been very sick because I didn't even give sweet Loretta a second glance for four days.
(Sidenote: As I cough all night, I find it necessary to apologize every time. It goes something like this, "Cough, cough, sorry. Cough, sorry. Cough, cough, cough, sorry". And so on and so forth. All. Night. Long. Brian says that I'm not keeping him awake and there is not need to apologize, but I can't stop myself. I guess I am just a very considerate cougher.)
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