In The Big Inning...

I've been sick for the past week. I'm just now getting better, but man, was it annoying. I'm rarely actually sick, and I suppose I should consider myself pretty lucky for that fact. On the other hand, it means it's incredibly disruptive when I am sick, especially because I'm not used to it. Sure, from time to time I'll call out of work if I'm not 100% - maybe I didn't get enough sleep, or have a slight headache or cough or something - but I think doing that, and resting up, helps to contribute to me rarely actually catching something more serious.

I definitely caught something more serious this past week, though. On Monday night, I started feeling tired and feverish. I went to bed, but had a ton of trouble sleeping. I tossed and turned all night, and when I woke up, I felt very hot. I took my temperature, and it was 100.8. I figured I should stay home. I didn't have a ton of other symptoms, though - just a fever, a runny nose, and a sore throat. I thought it would pass pretty quickly. I was wrong.

So, in the mid-afternoon, I take my temperature again. It's around 99, so I figure I'm getting better. I take a nap, and wake up feeling even worse. The fever's coming back, and my throat's getting worse. Before I go to bed, my temperature is back around 100. I still think I'll get better if I just go to bed early and sleep in a bit. Once again, I was wrong.

I don't sleep at all at night. I've been drinking water nonstop, trying to drown this virus or whatever it is, but all that really happens is I have to pee a lot. And since I have body aches along with my fever, every part of my body is hyper-sensitive, which makes peeing pretty uncomfortable. But since I'm waking up pretty much every hour to do precisely that, well, it's not a very enjoyable evening.

I wake up around 8, when Sam's leaving for work, and decide then that I'm in no shape to go back to work. I take my temperature a little later, and it's 102.5. Hmmm....not good. Since I'm unable to go back to sleep, I just collapse on the couch. I actually start to feel better, and later in the afternoon I take my temperature. It reads...106.6! That can't be right! I know it can't be right because I'm conscious. Or at least, I think I am. Somewhat nervous, and somewhat bemused, I search for a different digital thermometer, and find one. Using that thermometer, I'm at 98.5! Close to normal! I figure I must be getting better. Yet again, I'm wrong.

I take a nap in the afternoon, and wake up feeling horrid. As evening approaches, my fever increases again. By this time, Sam's bought me some NyQuil, and I'm taking it as often as I can. Right before I go to bed, I'm as feverish as I can remember ever being. My entire head is throbbing. I take my temperature (with the functioning thermometer) and it's 103.3. That's also a bit worrisome. (I take my temperature with the broken thermometer just for the heck of it and it reads "Error".) I call Sam's dad, who is a doctor, and he tells me not to get worried yet - just to take a few Advil in addition to my NyQuil. I do so, and try to go to bed.

Somehow, I sleep a bit better - for a few hours at a clip. I wake up, and my fever is magically gone! I figure what the hell, and go in to work. I'm a bit groggy, and work only sever hours or so, but I survive the day. On Friday, I'm marginally better, and go into work again. Sine then, I've been getting better in very small increments. I learn from other sick people at work that whatever's been going around tends to linger for a long, long time. Basically, it's turned into some sort of cold now, with me filling up the trash can with gallons of snot, (well, snot-coated tissues), but the fever hasn't come back. It's Monday now, and I'm at 95%. Being sick sucked.