I am writing this in my sick bed. Rather over dramatically, it could be my last post. Because I predict I'm going to die from coughing.
I've spent the full weekend, practically, in bed.
I am blaming the small germ ridden beings I work with. Especially the one who coughed in my face last week.
This is how your cold will go if you catch it from reading my blog. And you might, because I have coughed on the screen a lot. Infact each typed word is interspersed with a bout of coughing. I cannot put my hand over my mouth because I'm holding my iPad with one hand and my forehead with the other.
The word 'cold' is also misleading. You will be sweaty hot at times.
You will start late Friday afternoon with hurty ears and throat.
I whinged about it at work. I went home. Took as many prescription non conflicting drugs as I could find and went to bed very very early.
During the night, you will be up with afore mentions sweats, needing lots of drinks for raging throat ergo bathroom trips too. I finally gave in n got up around 4am to take more drugs and whinge about it to the people of Twitter. I hauled myself pathetically strengthless back to bed around seven and stayed there. I'm still there now. ( It's Monday morning )
By Saturday lunchtime your throat will cease hurting but the ear pain will be lurking in the background. Before you think oh, well, It's not too bad, the worst is over, it isn't. Your sinuses and nose will take over.
I got up for an hour or two Saturday afternoon but was soon back in bed. Tired out. More drugs and roll on Sunday.
By Sunday morning, after another sleepless pain filled bunged up night the one niggly ear now will gently remind you it's there. You will also be profoundly deaf. In a little snot bubble of your own. You will need copious amounts of soft tissue to try and blow your brains out through your nose. You will get a pounding headache if you bend down and you will need four hours rest after you exert yourself making a sandwich. Deep joy is on its way.
The deep joy I refer to it the cough. It's a dry, non productive cough. It's a dry non productive cough you like, because you keep doing it. You do it til you can't breathe, you do it til your eyes and your ahem, bladder, water. Yes, this is Tena strength coughing at its best. You also will probably get a six pack from the stomach tensing going on during these fun filled bouts of non stop coughing.
You will have whinged by text to your real life friends, whinged by Twitter to your Twitter friends and whinged and moaned to your HG and Son in your living room. I also whinged by FB messenger to the uni one.
By nine o' clock Sunday night, you will be wrestling with yourself over calling the boss. You will talk yourself into deciding if you get a good night's sleep ( you won't ), you will feel ok enough ( you won't ) to go to work.
Fast forward to 3am Monday morning. The Internet cure of putting Vicks on your feet and then socks to stop you coughing has not worked. ( I believe anything ) You've a horrible taste of Sinutab in your mouth. You realise that realistically you haven't the strength to get a bra on and deal with 28 needy little beings all day.
7am, you will make the call. You will probably be shouting because you are still a bit deaf. You will cough down the phone at your boss. You will say how it's affecting your bladder ( why Rachel, why ?? ) . You will admit defeat and accept the inevitability of having to take your first day off sick in
three years. She will be the loveliest boss ever and tell you to stay in bed!
I'm so glad I'm not a boss. Imagine having to deal with various grim symptoms on the phone, and having to HEAR the symptoms too. Nice.
So, having whinged about it elsewhere, I'm now whingeing about it on my blog, to you. I HATE being ill, I HATE having my breathing compromised and I HATE coughing.
I must be ill, I cannot even be arsed with watching telly!!
Please go wash your hands now and take some vitamin C or something! I might be able to sleep a while.
Rachel *coughs a lot* Radiostar x