Hey peeps, what's happenin? What is the hip jive diggy deal in the world nowadays? Cuz I been holed up in my house for 3 days straight hackin' up a lung or two or five thanks to ol' Bronchitismus. Lookin' straight up Cullen up in here, that's all I'm sayin'.
Actually, that's a lie I did leave the house saturday evening. Endangered my best friends sacred home with my nasty bronchial infectious spewing of a germy germ fest. What are buds for, right?
Also? NO idea how I came across this bordetella pertussis virus but it has apparently settled in for a nice long stay in my lung region. I also have no real knowledge of what I'm talking about, only the slight information I've gleaned from WebMD and wikipedia searches so I probably got the name wrong and where it "settles". But you get the picture.
The coughing. is. ridiculous. Sometimes it's like coughing up sand and I feel it grating along the back of my throat and I'm pretty sure it's scraped away half of my cells. Other times I can feel the gunk uprooted but it pulls a Nemo's-Dad-Marlin and puts its little amoeba tentacles on either side of my throat and is like, "NO! I will not leave this place....it's nice and moist and warm down here I like it." And then I choke but need air to cough more so I can breathe and suddenly I have a clear idea of what irony really means. My dear hubby is still under the impression that patting people on the back actually helps things. I do so appreciate his attempts to help but usually the beating between the shoulders just knocks whatever wind I had right out of my body. Dear thing doesn't really know his own strength.
Actually he's been a saint through this whole ordeal. A saint while also proving to be the strictest, most stubborn sick warden there ever was. I'm not allowed to walk anywhere without becoming a blanket burrito first, and definitely not without socks on. Oh mama I learned that one quick. ONLY fluids to eat/drink other than the occasional ramen even though I'm terrible and snuck an oatmeal pie and some cheese and crackers and tonight I convinced him to let me make mac'n'cheese. But I'm pretty sure he only agreed to that because we STILL have leftover ham from christmas and it's about to go bad and it's super duper delicioso with some good mac'n'cheese. He also only let me cook it because boiling water makes steam and that's one of the treatment suggestions from WebMD. "Breathe warm moist air". Dude, do you know where I live? (I hope not cuz that'd be weird.) There is not an abundance of moist air here, I assure you.
Oh, here's a story. He went to the store to buy some hot'n'spicy ramen to help with the stuffy nose issue as well as some orange juice (wootwoot vitamin C baby!) and I was thinking what a lovely and caring and dear husband I have. Later that day, I went to the fridge for some cooled water and what do I see in the fridge door? A new, freshly opened bottle of Welch's Sparkling red grape juice.
The little sneak didn't even mention it.
My poor fevered brain was quite confused for a minute. I stared at it trying to remember how many bottles I had originally bought for Christmas/New Years and how many we'd gone through. I saw the red color but I had to check again after shutting the door because I wasn't sure. It was a noticeable difference because usually Mark only likes the White grape juice. But it's ok I teased him about it. And he let me have a little.
He dosed me with garlic pills.
Constantly ordered me "back under the blankets!"
Tirelessly checks on my water consumption and sternly glares at me when the bottle is still half full after barely 30 minutes.
And worst of all! Won't let me kiss him on the mouth not even once as a slight, quick peck! Hmph. So then I just lick his elbow.
Speaking of fevers, the other morning when I woke up I took my temperature but like I said I'd just woken up and it was still dark in the room, the lights were off and I didn't have my glasses on. When the thermometer beeped I pulled it out and squinted at the little screen and lay there in a dull fog while I read "81.01" and wondered if I shouldn't be dead at that temperature. Naturally, I was holding it upside down and was really at 101.8 but I had a good giggle at the time.
Now I think I'm going to need to turn to the thick, medicated stench of Nyquill to help me sleep because this blogging is not doing the trick. I would love to write a post for you whilst under a warm layer of sweet drugs but I've had my say and I already told you. I've been inside our 3-bedroom apartment for 3 days. There is nothing else to talk about.
Cheers and a happy new year to you.