After my last post I decided I should put on my big girl pants. I figured I could handle whatever the world wanted to dish out.
This scene kept playing in my head (from one of the best Disney movies ever, The Emperor's New Groove). That's the way I was going to handle things. That's the way I still like to think I am going to handle things.
Life took me up on my offer, unfortunately.
My week progressed decently. I was setting up my classroom, working well with my co-teacher. I was going to have a great week. Tuesday I began to sneeze. I figured, well, we had a lot of rain so the mold level is high and I've got allergies. Wednesday, still sneezing and now I have a cough. That's okay, I'm fine. It's just a cold or something. I'll take it easy, at work and then head to the doctor if I'm not better by Friday.
And then came Thursday.
Thursday was just all out to mess up my week, or life. Thursday came on strong. I had a nasty chest, flemy, bloody cough that had me thinking, Friday is going to have to suck it. I'm going to leave work early and go to the doctor today.
Thursday wouldn't even let me do this! No. Thursday went all out and pulled no punches. It didn't just throw the kitchen sink at me, it threw a semi truck at me. Literally. On the freeway. Needless to say, there was an accident and I didn't make it into work.
I was so shaken up that I had to have my father come get me and then come back later for my car. I wasn't hurt, but because the semi swerved into my lane I had to swerve and the guy driving behind/next to me also swerved and rolled his Jeep. Thankfully he was not really hurt, he was standing on his own and the only visible damage to him were his cut fingers. The semi drove off.
I'm not really sure what is going to come of all this; I wasn't issued a ticket at the time, nor was I given a report number, the guy from the Jeeps name or information or any way to figure out what is going on. The police took my statement, information and told me to leave. I still feel terrible about it, writing about it is kind of cathartic.
By the time I got home I had forgotten about calling the doctor and it was a good thing that my mom has my best interests in heart because she came home, made the appointment and took me to it. I kept thinking that the day couldn't get much worse after my pre-8-o-clock disaster, but it did.
After two days my allergies or cold or flu or what have you had progressed into an ear infection, bronchitis on its way to becoming pneumonia, a sinus infection and oh, by the way, your throat is swelling up. You maybe need to go to the hospital. This suggestion was from the same doctor that sent me home back in December when I was hacking up blood with one round of antibiotics and the assurance that I'd be better in a week.
Luckily, I didn't have to go in. Just put on a really strong antibiotic and given steroid shots. I was also being put on my strict promise that, if I wasn't much better by Friday I would come back in for more shots and or a hospital stay. I did not call back on Friday. I spent the entire day in bed. I didn't get up. I didn't even get dressed. I did feel a little bit better (which was why I decided not to call, not just because I didn't want to go to the hospital).
It makes me wonder, though, how much I am going to be able to work this year. It only took two days for me to progress from just a sneeze to being threatened with hospitalization. This is how immunosuppressed I am.
I want to hide under a rock now.