I’ve been sniffing, hawking, hacking—not the computer kind—and blowing for three 
weeks. Not a complainer, but seriously. Cough drops are my friend. Vicks, LifeSavers, YellowHeads, you name it. Shoulda bought stock in Kimberly-Clark.
“It’s getting better,” I’d say.
I’d try a bike ride, a short ride, then lay low for a day and half. Mostly I practiced the Britishism, ‘keep calm and carry on’. Often a cold, for me, turns into coughing and asthma, the only time I’m a member of the inhaler-club.
It’s getting better. Reach for a tissue. Really.
Until yesterday when my throat really started to hurt. Again. Looked in the mirror and seemed kinda spotty. Of course it’s a Friday afternoon. Got an appointment with my doc for first thing Monday, but I’ thinking, what if it’s strep? I know you’re supposed to DO something about that. Could lead to rheumatic fever, with me back in a historical novel, accompanied by a mournful soundtrack.
I showed up at 7:50 this morning at urgent care, when they open at 8. First one. Still, some guy pushed his way ahead of me.
No strep, apparently. It’s bronchitis, upper respiratory infection, and I left with a bouquet of prescriptions to help me out.
But it was 10:00 before I was home from CVS.
Seriously, how do people manage when they’re really sick?
Nap time.
