Health Update

Good News: I was able to drag myself to the gym today and did 35 minutes on the elliptical, which felt great.

Bad News: Then I came home and passed out for four hours, which felt much better.

Hopefully tomorrow I'll only pass out for 2-3 hours after working out...

This Is Why I'm A Hermit

Mark was in town this weekend, which was great fun. However, it led me to do the one thing I've tried to avoid doing at all costs while unemployed: I left the house.

This had two dire consequences. I am now a) broke and b) sick.

A) was expected and worth it. I do miss at least pretending I have a life, and it was nice to eat something other than another crappy frozen Healthy Choice dinner.

B), however, is proving more problematic. I initially blamed Mark and his Chicago-style germs, all covered in cheese and mustard.

But really, the problem is that I have had little human contact other than going to the gym for the last two months and my immune system was basically asleep in a dark corner of my pancreas when I needed it most.

Mark, his constitution hale and hearty from being tempered in the snows and bars of Chicago, was completely unaffected.

So now I'm left exhausted, coughing up a lung, with my nose running like a leaky faucet, but at least glad that I don't have to work through this nonsense.

I shall provide further updates when the exhaustion lifts to the point that I can type more than 50 words a minute without feeling like I've run three miles.

Flavor vs. Color

Having had a bad cold and having blown through my remaining supply of Real (ie. pseudoephedrine-based) NyQuil, when I stopped by the drugstore to pick up another prescription tonight, I decided to pick up some more of the good stuff.

Two problems arose with this idea.

First, because pseudoephedrine is used in the manufacture of methamphetamine, anything containing it is now banished behind the counter, where you must scan your driver's license in order to purchase it, allowing Big Brother to track your purchases and ensure you're just sick and not manufacturing meth.

Because of this ridiculousness, most pharmacies just sell the "reformulated" (ie. completely useless) version over the counter, and keep a limited stock of Real NyQuil.

Secondly, because the cold I have has been going around for some time, said limited stock was depleted to the point where the only bottle left of the good stuff was the Green flavor.

Previously, I've always purchased the "Cherry" flavor, which tastes nothing whatsoever like cherries, but is at least bearable in its own foul, familiar manner.

Tonight was the first time I tried the Green flavor, which is only labeled "Original." Now I understand why Laz refers to it as the GREEEEEEEEEEEEN flavor.

Because it doesn't taste like anything else you've ever tasted. You taste it and you think, "UCH! That tastes....GREEEEEEEEN!"

You can hear and read that description all you want, but you cannot understand it until you take a sweet sip of the disgusting weirdness. Now, I understand.

And now, I must head for bed before I pass out facefirst on the keyboard.

Dear Cold

You could have come anytime last week. You could have come on Thanksgiving, making dinner a bit awkward, but giving me three days of sitting at home on my ass to recover.

But when did you decide to come? Sunday night. Yes, Sunday night you started me on a downward slope of dozens of consecutive sneezes and disgustingly dripping nostrils.

I hoped, nay, I prayed that it was simply because it's been getting a little chilly at night and I've got my heater turned way down to save money.

Then I woke up this morning, and because of you, I sounded like Elmer Fudd until almost noon. I walked around all day like my brain was made of Jell-o. I tried drowning you in orange juice last night and this morning, to no avail.

I had four days off in a row. And when do you come? When I have to work for five, when I do not have time for this bullshit.

You are a terrible, rude houseguest, Cold. And I hereby order you to get the fuck out, and take your friend Sinus Congestion with you.

A Vast Improvement

The streak lives! My iron stomach continued to hold its own against all comers. About partway through Thursday my appetite came back in full force, and I ended up eating my way through half the food in the kitchen at work.

The foot's also been behaving better. I was doing something that, to the naked eye, resembled walking yesterday. I'm still having a few incidences of intermittent stabbing pain, but it's better than constant stabbing pain.

And now, I'm waiting for the cable guy to get my HD TiVo recording in SPECTACULAR HD. All in all, it'll be a nice improvement over the last week.

"I've Got David Duke and Farrakahn Down There!"

I don't know why, but for about the last 20 hours, I've been really nauseous. I have a Seinfeldian non-vomit streak going (last time was when I was 10 and had food poisoning from bad shrimp), but I don't know how much longer it will last.

I have stayed home from work in an effort not to puke on my coworkers. I may get a chance to change things up and puke on the cat instead of having him puke on me.

Good times.

Week In Brief

Assorted news and notes:

- I came down with a real nasty sinus bug starting Wednesday. Lots of fun. And by fun, I mean massive pain.

- It takes more forms of identification to be allowed to purchase real Sudafed than it does to pay for it with a credit card. By the time I was done, I was surprised they didn't want me to leave a DNA sample.

- Even though I was sick, I stayed late at work to watch a big stunt last night. Totally worth it.

- I am already very tired of Christmas and its related parties and gifts.

- I found a mechanic who not only doesn't suck, but is actively good! Thanks, CarTalk.com!

- Did I mention that I feel like my sinuses are about to burst forth from my head like that scene in Alien?

A Rich Fucking Tapestry

The most exciting moment of my day was when I came home and discovered that there was no cat puke anywhere in my house.

I need to get a life.

edit: But first, I need to pass along this portrait of Chaplin as a young cat.

Disease Update

Well, it's Not Strep. No word on what it actually IS, but it's definitely Not Strep.

It's likely some sort of virus thing, so I'll be stocking up on DayQuil and throat lozenges and heading back into work tomorrow. Whee!

This Is Not My Week

First, there was the whole issue of the bad timing of my trip to Atlanta. Then when I came back, the cat decided I was a chew toy.

Now, we have the trifecta: Disease!

All my Atlanta-based relatives came over for brunch on Sunday afternoon, and I got to hold Elias, my 5-month old nephew, who I hadn't yet met.

Elias was kind enough to sneeze directly in my face, covering me in baby spit. I asked if he's been sick lately and his parents chose that point to tell me "Oh...uh, yeah, he's got a cold."

I thought I'd managed to avoid Sneezing Baby Disease when I felt fine all day Sunday and all day yesterday. I woke up this morning feeling shittier than usual, but shrugged it off.

Then when I got to work, I got into a steep downward spiral, rapidly losing energy and the ability to even hold myself upright.

I couldn't even finish half of my lunch. Anyone who knows me (or has seen my Wide Load ass) knows that's a big old red flag. I decided to go home.

I emailed my parents to let them know, and pointed out to my dad the potential red flag of Elias sneezing on me.

I got an email back within 20 minutes: Max, Elias' older brother, had just tested positive for strep throat. I immediately went to the bathroom mirror and looked at my tonsils, which were huge.

So I called the doctor to try and set up an appointment to get a strep test, and after a long and ridiculous argument trying to get myself in to get tested today, they gave me the first appointment tomorrow.

Of course, given the way this week has been going, I'll probably turn out to have malaria instead.