When it rains, it pours. So naturally, after I was released from the hospital, I ended up catching The Cold From Hell.
I could blame Tara, though it’s not really her fault. When she climbed into my hospital bed on New Year’s Eve and we started making out like a couple of lovestruck teenagers, she didn’t know her body was harboring germs. My first inclination that anything was amiss came the following morning, when she called and said she was sick.
We’d had a date to catch the sunrise together from my room on the first day of the new year, but she hadn’t shown up. That should’ve been my first clue, but I figured she’d simply overslept. Or been abducted by aliens. Either seemed more plausible than a sudden illness when she’d been perfectly fine a mere 12 hours earlier.
“Well, I did start coughing earlier in the day,” she admitted.
“Wish I’d known that last night!” I said. “I never would have had you climb into bed with me and start making out all passionately and stuff!”
At this point we both paused and burst into mad laughter, the ridiculousness of my statement not fooling either of us for one second. Still, I clung to the hope that I would not catch what she had. After all, I rarely get sick. It had been years, plural, since my last cold. Maybe this one would pass me by.
When I started coughing Sunday morning, I knew this one had not passed me by.
Sunday night was so bad, I could not sleep. I hung out in the living room all night, watching YouTube videos and reading online articles I’d been meaning to get around to since August (example: 15 Reasons to Love Portland in the Fall. That ship has obviously long since sailed). At least I managed to get rid of a bit of clutter.
I was too sick to go to the office Monday and Tuesday, so I ended up working from home instead. Which sounds great, but when you’re coughing nonstop and battling a fever, is less fun than it seems. Plus, I had to stick myself and shoot myself up whether or not I felt like it. Which, again, sounds great but isn’t – at least not in this context. I was finally able to return to the office on Wednesday. It felt like forever since I’d been there. It was an important step toward normalcy, though; I felt much better afterwards.
On the positive side, my doctor switched me from one of my insulin therapies to Metformin (a pill) instead, which means fewer shots during the day. I seem to be adapting well, as my blood sugar numbers have mostly been within the normal to slightly elevated range. At least that’s one bit of good news. The way this year has begun, I can definitely use it.