Twenty four hours ago I was in bed with a fever, body aches, and a horrible spasmodic cough that left me gasping for air like a just-caught fish, and I was praying for a quick death. I woke up this morning at 7:00 a.m. and showered, did laundry, took the kid shopping, cleaned my bathroom, did more laundry, cooked supper, did more laundry, cleaned my bedroom, and had to stop myself from cleaning the kitchen because I was feeling a little dizzy. How did this happen? Part of it was a pretty heavy duty antibiotic. But I suspect a big part of it was my old friend methylprednisone, which I last met in injectible form with a slightly different name.
When the doctor (not Dr New and Improved, or even Dr Sparkle, but Dr Take Your Best Shot at the Random Walkin Clinic, who turned out to be surprisingly nice and diligent) said he was going to prescribe a pill version of that particular steroid, I was a bit concerned. When J brought it back from the pharmacist and said "Heather said you'll probably have the same sleep issues, and it also tends to make people a little grumpy" it didn't make me feel any better. But still, you know, praying for death and all that. It seemed like a decent alternative.
Who knows if I'll sleep tonight. But if I could manage to get my hands on this stuff, maybe one week a month? My whole damn house would finally be clean.
(Also? Am I the only person who has to decide whether or not to call in sick before I put on makeup? Because once I've gone that far, I'm not going to waste it - I'm going to work.)
(Also also? Does anyone else feel like you need to do something productive while you're home sick? Or am I the only who says "As soon as the dizziness stops, I'm going to vacuum the living room." Why do we feel that way?)