Friday, October 24, 2014

Wherein I Complain

I am so effing tired of being sick.

I've been sick since September 26th.  Well, no, that's not true.  But I do remember that day very well because I was up almost all night with Tater for a reason still unknown to me and I missed church because I could barely hold my head up.

Right after that, I got sick.  And I've stayed sick.

I had the pneumonia.  I knew I had the pneumonia.  The doctor didn't believe I had the pneumonia and gave me a weenie antibiotic that I took for an entire week and continued to get steadily worse.

And then I was all like, "Doctor, dude, I told you I have the pneumonia, give me something f'real."

So, he did.  And I took that for a week and stopped having fevers and hot flashes.

But the cough and shortness of breath continue to be a problem.  Like, I walk up the stairs and at the top, I have to take a rest.  There are thirteen steps.  Hardly breathless-worthy.  I can't take a deep breath or laugh without coughing.

And to top it all off, now my nose is dripping like a hose.

You know how hard it is to give a massage when you can't take a deep breath or take time to repeatedly blow your nose?

Not that I'm doing that massages.  I've been "working" for three weeks and managed to give my first for-real-paid-on-a-massage-table-massage yesterday.  I don't know if it's good news or bad news, but the dude slept for about 83 minutes of the 90 minute massage.  He said it was an outstanding massage, but I have no idea how he'd know that.  At least he couldn't hear me sniffling and breathing heavily and think me inappropriate.

Other than that, I do a whole lot of sitting around, which was exactly why I hesitated to take the job in the first place.  I detest sitting around (paying others to take care of my children) when I have things at home that could be getting done.  Like watching What About Bob.

So, now that I'm done complaining (and on a FRIDAY of all days), here's my prayer for the next week:  please let me feel better.  A month is a looooooong time to feel cruddy.  And please let me be useful (and get paid) at work!  Me sitting there is helping no one.

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