Enough already!

I HATE being sick.

To admit you are sick is to admit you are weak.

And I am not weak.

Ok – I realize how ridiculous that is, but it’s the way I was raised. I can’t ever remember going to the doctor because I was sick. Head split open and needing stitches – yes. Coughing and fever – no. And the only time we ever got to stay home from school was if we were throwing up. I’m sure part of it was that we didn’t have very good insurance and couldn’t really afford to, but I also think my mom just felt that going to the doctor was unnecessary. I know I’ve heard her make more than one comment as an adult about somebody who takes their kids “all the time” and she thinks that’s ridiculous. So it’s in my blood. If you’re not dying – you just tough it out.

So I have been fighting some nastiness for – well – almost a month now. Never really sick – not enough to miss work, and it’s only kept me from a few social engagements – but just enough to keep me from sleeping well and being rested enough to heal completely. I went to the doctor a couple of weeks ago (at the insistence of my wonderful husband – and as the doctor noted as well – I’m lucky to have someone who cares about me enough to insist!!) and also said that I indeed have bronchitis. He gave me a plethora of drugs, including some Vicodin for the painful sinus headaches it was giving me – which was the worst part of the entire sickness. However the actual bronchitis is still lingering and it’s DRIVING ME CRAZY!

I’m taking major quantities of drugs now (which I hate to do) but by God I am going to get rid of this if it kills me.