I’ve been feeling like merde for the past couple of months, finally going to urgent care on Memorial Day, at which point I was told I had a sinus infection and – brace yourself – a cough. I was given stuff for my cough, a steroid, and antibiotics. No dice. It all helped a bit, but I was still not my usual self. I wasn’t dying, but was only operating at about 75-80% of my usual energy levels.
I decided today that I needed to go back to see someone, but had a field visit scheduled for this morning. It was actually a good day to be out – a rare summer morning in Louisiana when the temperatures were in the low 70’s. We were outside near a bayou. There was a breeze and cloud cover. We saw 2 pretty bit gators. If only I felt better.
Say hello to my little friend
As we were leaving the site, my foot felt funny. It was if I had stepped in the world’s biggest wad of chewing gum. When I was finally free to examine my steel-toed boot, I noticed that a little something was wrong: the damn sole was coming off. Seeing as how I have a ton of field work coming up, that needs to be addressed PDQ. Working for the government, however, nothing can be done without approval.
While waiting for said approval, I popped over to the doc in the box. I gave them my spiel: cough, feeling as if I can’t hear, feeling like I get water in my nose when I bend over, no energy, and all after a full course of treatment. Turns out there’s a reason: I don’t necessarily have a sinus infection and a sinus infection only. I have walking pneumonia.
So a shot of yet another steroid, a new antibiotic, and 2 things for cough, and it was back to work to wait for my approval for boots. And that is where I sit now. I wish I could go home, but unless I duct tape my sole back on, I won’t have anything for Friday.
At least my kids are elsewhere, so maybe with another 24 hours of the correct medicine, I’ll be on the mend. It’s so weird not having them, and I’ve been full of nervous energy. I’ve made ugly challah bread (forgive me, Paul Hollywood), wild rice and mushroom stew, and I’m back knitting. I think if I were right, I’d have my house spotless.
But I miss my children. Felix still climbs in bed with me early in the morning and curls his little body up next to mine. When he’s like that, he still feels little, his hair has that softness that young children have. Will hates it, but I soak it up. I know it won’t last much longer. And the kid is a ninja! Usually he doesn’t even wake me up when he does it, so I can’t possibly send him back to his room.
So what’s the point? I don’t know. I guess this story is soleless. Sorry. I guess it’s to not be a stubborn cuss like me. Go to the f’ing doctor sooner than 6-8 weeks after you fall ill, and if the first doctor doesn’t help, don’t wait another 2 weeks before going to someone else.