I've been sick since the weekend before Christmas. It's that cough that won't go away. It keeps me up at night, hacking away. If I laugh too hard, I start coughing. Even worse, my throat was so sore from coughing, I had to whisper. (Those who know me are probably laughing out loud.)
With a little bit, okay a lot, of prodding from my husband, I dragged myself to the Target clinic over the weekend. Only because I had to whisper to talk and my ears might have hurt a little.
As much as I hate admitting that I'm sick, I hated feeling like crud. This cold has been a roller coaster ride. Some days I feel so-so and other days I feel like crap. We were cooped in during winter break because I was too sick to take the kids anywhere. Which means they got a lot of television.
Luckily, the nurse practitioner only diagnosed me with acute bronchitis. Which meant she sent me home with yummy, yummy, (NOT) Cheratussin AC, which is cough medicine with codeine. A narcotic. Apparently codeine is supposed to help me sleep, but it makes me feel a little wired. Hmmmm. At least it's helping my cough.
Now that I'm feeling a little better, I forced my husband to go to the clinic too. Turns out he has the flu and a sinus infection. Poor guy. He even texted me after his visit to tell me he was going into work afterwards. HA! I made him ask for permission to go back to work and the nurse practitioner denied him!
He slept on the couch most of the day. Hopefully he'll recover in a couple of days. And, flu meds are expensive. Even with insurance. I shudder to think what we'd have to pay without insurance.
The moral of the story is: don't come near us for a while. Not until we get rid of the plague.
*Ok I only have one house. Apartment if you want to get technical. I couldn't pass up quoting Shakespeare.