For the last two months I have gotten a very good, indeed, a frighteningly good idea of what it was like to waste away from something as simple as a cold, turned bronchitis, turned pneumonia, turned generalized bacterial infection. You read about these things in Victorian novels. People took years to die from "consumption" (tuberculosis), or got a cold from "night air" or being dunked in a river or caught in a rainstorm (Austen was fond of this for her more tragic heroines) and then took six months or more to die. They'd have good days and bad days, until they finally took to their beds and became paler and paler and finally died.
This could have, no, would have been my fate many times over if it weren't for modern antibiotics. This isn't counting how many times I would have died from asthma. I have been very sick for two months, complete with good days and bad days. My body would rally, I would almost kick it, and then WHAM it would slap me back down and there I was, in bed on my day off looking at my laundry and dishes and too wiped out to do either.
I went to the doctor in April and was given steroids and my asthma prescriptions renewed. But no antibiotics, unfortunately. This was a huge oversight on the part of my doctor, and that visit also cost me $200. I like the guy, but he missed the boat here.
What started as the flu (one has to wonder if it was swine flu, seriously) just continued and continued and continued, with me almost all better and then getting the old smack down again. It just wouldn't go away.
I did all the "natural" remedies and while they helped a bit, nothing
helped me kick this crud. I was using echinacea, goldenseal,
homeopathics for flu (which seemed to work the best, believe it or
not),vitamins and vitamins and vitamins. And kept getting sicker.
Yesterday, after having lost my voice the day before (and now my throat hurt a lot),my eye being infected, and running a fever most of the weekend, I finally decided that enough was enough, I was on the verge of Very Bad Things and went to the emergency room. The first thing I told the doctor was, "Please, give me Zithromax!"
And he did! That very morning I ate a handful of pills and lo and behold by last night I had my voice back! Yeah, so I sound like a cross between Phyllis Diller and Froggy from Little Rascals, who cares? I can talk again! I also had a long breathing treatment that helped greatly.
Better than that, this morning I feel so much better. I actually felt good when I woke up! I'm so used to feeling terrible every morning that the difference is astounding. No more waking up in the night wheezing and coughing. I breathed all night, all the way, like normal people. Heaven! Breathing IS number one, folks. If you can't breathe you can't heal and I am sure that not being able to breathe was keeping this thing going.
I'm still coughing, I'm still sick, but I'm definitely on the mend. And best of all, I FEEL better.
It's interesting that suddenly the dogs are happier. They are so empathic. I was low, so they were low. They weren't playing much, they were mopey, and they both had allergies themselves. This morning I could see both of them being much happier and playing and being spontaneous. It was a marked difference from the last two months. Still, they get to go to the vet next, it's their turn, now that I have enough energy to make that happen. Everybody wins!
