So I went to the doctor yesterday and SHAZAM, I’m not having a Man Cold. In fact, I’m having a very-real-why-didn’t-you-come-sooner? cold, equating to a double ear infection and bronchitis. Huh.
Since my case was already so advanced (OVERACHIEVER!), I was granted a couple of options, and of course, I took D: All of the Above. So I graciously dropped my pants for a steroid shot there in office, along with a round of antibiotics and a cough syrup laced with codeine.
(If I wasn’t on a list for buying iffy medication before this visit, I must be now.)
(Side note: I hate having to sign out buying cold meds SO MUCH that I purposefully pick up a gallon of bleach to check out each time. EACH TIME.)
Anyway, it’s been so long since I’ve been this sick (I’ve probably gotten three steroid shots in my life), that I had forgotten what meds like this do to my body.
Hour 1: zzzzzzzzzzzzz
Hour 2: Huh. I feel a little better.
Hour 3: I think I might go take an easy, 20-mile jog real quick.
Hour 4: OH MY GOD, I’M HAVING THE CHANGE. WHY IS IT SO HOT IN HERE?
Hour 5: Bryan, does Tony look like a glazed ham to you too? Also, don’t you think that furniture would be delicious with salt on it?
Hour 6: It’s probably time to take my cough meds.
Hour 7: IS NO SARAH. ONLY ZUUL.
Hour 8: zzzzzzz
Hour 2 a.m.: HEY LET’S GO TRY TO RUN A MARATHON, WANNA? HAVEN’T YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO RUN A MARATHON?
Today, I’m having good spells and bad spells. During the good spells, I want to do jumping jacks and handstands. The bad spells leave me unbearably dizzy and wanting to nap. But the good news is: DIAGNOSIS and it’s not Ebola or the plague. HOORAY!