LOUD AS A
WHISPER
8 October 2002
I limped home from Journal.con (difficult to do in a car, but I
managed it) and collapsed. The sore throat I had on Friday, which I congratulated myself
on having lost by Saturday so I could thoroughly enjoy the panels, and the trip out on San
Francisco bay to Alcatraz, the night out wandering the streets of San Francisco, etc, was
back in spades on Sunday morning.
"Don't go back," Olivia counseled me.
So naturally, I went back.
"I'll play it by ear," I said.
Well, I got there and didn't feel too bad, actually. The burning
lungs which had awakened me at 4 a.m. that morning were behaving themselves quite nicely,
thankyou. I had a bit of a cough, but nothing that would make me feel I should crawl off
to the nearest nursing station demanding drugs. I did polish off several pitchers of
ice water, however, in an attempt to keep the dry hacking cough a bay.
I was feeling a tad "not quite well, but not really sick"
by the end of the conference, but I thoroughly enjoyed showing my city to Terry and had,
in fact, been looking forward to giving the grand tour, especially on such a
glorious day.
So we saw the highpoints, or as many as I could fit in given her
time constraints, and I left her at the airport and started home.
I'm not sure when all of those germ fighting molecules gave up the
ghost, but somewhere on the road which runs along the bird sanctuary, while watching the
terns bobbing up and down and the egrets looking noble and the seagulls trolling for food,
I realized that I was Sick.
What I really wanted to do was to just pull off the road, get in the
back seat, lie down, and wait till it all went away. But I think the CHP has rules about
sleeping by the side of the freeway for a couple of days.
When I got home, Walt was off at the theatre being a technician. I
looked at the work I had planned to do and figured that there probably wasn't any way I
was going to get to it. I did, of course, throw up a journal entry about part 2 of
Journal.con. Somehow it would take something a bit more serious than double pneumonia to
keep me from doing that. However, I realize that probably more people will read my journal
for yesterday than have ever done so before, all looking for pics of the event--and based
on how yucky I felt and how hastily it was written, I will lose every single one of them
as a potential new reader (so much for the tips I picked up at the "how to be a
popular journal" panel!)
But I couldn't help it. It's hard to be creative when you're
sweating, coughing like mad and trying to write while resting your head on the computer
monitor.
I was not a well person.
When I got the journal entry written I made the final decision: I
will not even attempt to transcribe.
Instead I got into jammies and climbed into the recliner to watch
the end of Bram and Alice (new program, debuting last night, which has promise as
a more intelligent than most sit-com. [I have to say that 'cuz Steve's husband Jimmy will
be making a guest appearance in an upcoming episode!...but I'd say that anyway, 'cuz I
liked it.])
When Walt got home and I tried to say hello, I discovered I had no
voice. I managed to croak out a few sentences, but basically, communication was pretty
much a lost cause.
Somewhere during the middle of the Mary Kaye movie (which I felt too
sick to even form any opinion about--except that it must have been a fun role for Shirley
MacLain to play), I finally went to sleep.
At 2:30 a.m. I was awake and feeling even worse than before. In
addition to the cough and the sore throat, I couldn't get warm. I put on sox and a
bathrobe and piled on the blankets, but there wasn't any way I could warm up. I finally
went upstairs and climbed into bed, under a heavy quilt. Sleeping in a bed always bothers
my back, and I could feel the familiar stabbing pains, but I didn't care because I was
finally starting to feel warm. I fell back to sleep and didn't wake until 6:30.
(Fortunately, I'd left a message for Cindy the night before that I wouldn't be biking this
morning)
I did feel somewhat better when I got up, but still no voice at all,
still definitely "not well" and wishing for once that I worked in a big office
where there are people to cover for you and where you actually get sick leave.
I e-mailed a pathetic message to Dr. G, mostly to elicit a bit of
sympathy and warn him not to expect any typing to be done by today. (I was kind of
hoping against hope that he would suggest I stay home, but I realized that we had a full
afternoon of patients scheduled and that if he has no female assistant, he can't conduct
any exams, so I didn't see how I was going to be able to stay home).
I received a note back saying that he was sorry I was sick, that his
wife was also sick, and that he'd been taking lots of vitamin C and had avoided it--and
that he'd see me in the afternoon.
So much for sick leave.
In fairness, his wife called me a bit later. "hello,"
I croaked, my voice barely audible.
"hello,"
she croaked back, her voice as barely audible as mine.
She offered to split the afternoon with me--she'd do half, and I'd
do half. I didn't see how that would be good for either of us, and told her as long as I
had to go in, I might as well do the whole day, especially since she had to be sick while
coping with a 4 year old and I didn't.
Dr. G went in to the office early and took care of all the work that
had to be done before the day started--answered all the phone messages, etc., so I could
stay home a bit longer (which was nice).
We managed to limp thru the afternoon. He took as many phone
calls as he could, so I wouldn't have to talk, he promised not to get upset with the
transcription that wasn't done (and he didn't), and he sent me home as soon as he could
with a recipe for an herbal treatment for this...whatever it is. I'm going to be
mixing water, juice, ginger root, lemons, honey and tea and drinking it for the next two
days. He says it will make me feel much better.
Best of all, he cancelled the morning appointment tomorrow so I
don't have to go to work until noon, which means I can rest tonight and do his
transcription in the morning. I think I'm starting to feel better already, even if I
have absolutely zero voice. |
