I'm still charming as ever and have perfect footwear, but alas...I'm sick.
It all began Friday afternoon. One never knows precisely when one makes contact with that special microorganism that will bring one to one's knees, but I can definitely say it began making its presence known Friday afternoon, just before the onset of a three-day weekend, as fate would have it (thank you, Fate). I left work with a throat that was tender, and rapidly degenerating, what with the help of what appeared to be a post-nasal drip. Saturday, I was sneezing, but still functional. Sunday, I was...less functional. The skin around my nose was red and tender, and I had a throat to match. By Monday, my head was clogged and I was sneezing and dripping at intervals.
Tuesday morning, I awoke with all the symptoms heretofore mentioned in full swing, plus I was losing my voice. I called the office from the warmth of my bed.
I called too early and was rerouted to another office than could care less that I was sick and wouldn't be likely to transfer the information to interested parties. So I tried my boss's number (it used to be extension 7657, or something like that), and resorted to trying random combinations in the neighborhood until I reached an actual human. It happened to be a human I know. And like.
"DMS, this is Brooks."
"Hi, Brooks," I croaked, "This is Capt Black. How are you?"
"I'm good, thanks, but you sound horrible."
"Thank you. I've been working on my sick voice all morning."
"Well, you're doing great. When I try to call in sick, they just laugh at me."
"Listen, I'm trying to call in sick but I don't know the number to call. You aren't even on the same floor as us anymore, are you?"
"No...We're down in the FAB."
"I know Bobby will be in. Can you find his number for me, please?"
"Well...I don't know. Let me see what I can find here"--long pause--"Ok. What I'm about to do hasn't been attempted before. I'm going to try to transfer you. If it doesn't work, his number if 7537. OK? Good luck. Hope you get to feeling better"--
Dingaling dingaling. "Network analysis. This is Bobby."
"Good morning, Bobby. This is Capt Black."
"You don't sound so good."
"Which brings me to the reason for my call...I need to stay in bed today. Please write me in as sick and if anyone needs to reach me, I'll [obviously] be at home."
"Will do. Hope you feel better soon."
I really love my coworkers. Have I mentioned this? They're very caring, thoughtful people. (And competent, but that isn't why I love them.)
So I spent the day taking prescription decongestant that wasn't prescribed to me, but worked wonderfully and knocked me out cold for most of the day. When I awoke at dusk, there was a sizeable pile of used Kleenex on the floor by my bed, and there were cats all over me, purring madly. I was up and about for about two hours, then off to bed again.
This time, I awoke at ~2am, certain that I had strep. I don't know that I've ever even had strep, but I'd tried to swallow (several times) and the pain was almost unbearable. Then I had pain my right ear that felt as though someone had just driven a nail through my eardrum. I winced to make it go away (which doesn't really work, but makes me feel like I'm contributing to the cure), and I resolved to see a doctor about my little viral problem the next morning, no matter what.
I awoke and rang the "sick call" line*. The recording told me to appear at the clinic between 0645 and 0730 for sick call. I showered, dressed (in uniform) and drove to the clinic. I was amazed to learn that my throat wasn't even raw.
* Standard AF policy, as far as I know, dictates that you will be at sick call if you are not at work on any given duty day. This policy is often waived at unit levels and below, at the supervisor's discretion. My boss--a retired Chief Master Sergeant, something she almost never mentions because she doesn't have to, as we love and respect her for who she is now, and I daresay would bend over backwards for if opportunity offered--understands the inherent paradox of being too sick to go to work but not too sick to go sit in sick call, and this rule is generally waived...within reason. You'll soon see why this accommodation is in place.
My annual humiliation had been scheduled for that morning, so I had to be there at 0730 for that, so I queued up in the sick call line and asked to be seen by a "family practice" doctor when I reemerged. I was thus given a 0930 appointment. (Nothing earlier was available. I checked.)
And so it was that I found myself sitting in the waiting area for 1.5 hours (with a couple of captains in SOS*, who'd reported to sick call but had inexplicably been scheduled for appointments, as well, and spent a considerable amount of time waxing eloquent about it), during which time I walked to the ladies' room every five to seven minutes to blow my nose. I noted with some distress that all the glands on my right side were swollen and tender.
* Squadron Officer School, a required bit of Professional Military Education for officers at the captain level, which I have no doubt I'll be discussing presently. I just signed up for the non-resident course.
This is not just another cold. It's even too vicious to call "The Crud." It isn't quite the flu, but appealing to The Stand for ideas, let's just call it The Supercrud. Or maybe Biological Warfare Beta Test.
I was then escorted to another holding area, where I filled out paperwork that asked specifically if I had certain symptoms (fever, chills, headache, aching muscles, nasal congestion, sore throat, etc). There was nothing on there about swollen or tender glands, so I wrote it in. Another hour, and I was shown into an examination room, where I was left to my own devices for another thirty minutes before the doc showed up. She peered in my ears and nose and throat and asked me questions before prescribing me a medication for every symptom. She asked if I thought I could go back to work today. I said I probably could, but would prefer not to. I was miserable and tired and...I just wonder about this, but just how often do these physicians note that you're still contagious and put you on quarters to protect everyone else? Rarely, I'm guessing. Which would be why we pass everything that comes along to everyone in the office...all the time.
Speaking of which, I got this particular bug from Karen (my boss). It is so the same bug that she could predict every phase of the illness to me: the hoarseness and now, the coughing fits.
So I went home for the afternoon (after spending an unprecedented 4.5 hours in sick call) and slept again. Then I went to work like normal the next day, and worked 7 to 5:15, then split for class. I didn't have any notable symptoms, except I was deliciously hoarse (as I mentioned earlier, I think it sounds pretty cool, but most people think I just sound sick). That night in class, about 5 minutes before the end of the lecture (mercifully), I broke into a vicious coughing fit that left me red in the face, my chest burning but temporarily appeased, and gasping for air. When I left the class, my back (!) was in knots and I'd managed to pinch a nerve in my lower back. I attribute this to the coughing fit because I'd been fine five minutes earlier. Seems rational, at least. I coughed fitfully all the way home, then popped a Tessalon Perle.
This is a prescription med that has been (up to now) absolutely unmatched in treating coughs. It's a tiny little green-pea-sized capulet that anesthetizes your lungs and bronchii. The coughing tapered off but didn't stop. I drank a glass of wine and went to bed. I slept well until the alarm went off, at which point I sat up, blew my nose (and blew my nose and blew my nose), then proceeded to cough...as the fluid drained to a new spot in my lungs (apparently).
So I went to work, right? It's just a bit of a cough. No biggie. I'm waaaay behind and I don't enjoy being behind (or a behind, for that matter). So off I went. I vaguely remembered the debilitating coughing session of the evening prior, so I took a Tessalon Perle before leaving home.
At the office, I helped myself to donuts and coffee (Bobby got promoted, so he bought), and answered mail. And coughed.
At 0800, I hopped in my truck to drive to an appointment at Maxwell AFB across town. I took another Tessalon Perle. May I remind you this is prescription strength cough control medication? So anyway...at that appointment (briefing), I left the room twice in the space of 25 minutes to cough until I gagged...then gasp for air. After the briefing, I went to the BX (forthwith) to purchase some Robitussin DM. I took three adult doses within the next thirty minutes as I drove back across town. When I got back to my office, I was still breaking into uncontrolled fits of coughing. Karen finally just sent me home.
30 minutes before we indulged in an absolutely opulent, no-holds-barred covered dish luncheon, I might add (we're Southern, and we take these things seriously; everyone waddles away from our luncheons). It was for two men I consider to be good friends, no less. One is off to Colorado to work at the Air Force Academy and the other is off to Charleston, SC, to run a Combat Camera unit. I'll miss them both and wish very much I could have been there to see them off.
So I came home after practically being ordered to, and opened a bottle of Chianti*. I'm still coughing, although less frequently. Between fits, I think "there's no reason I can't be at work," but when I cough, even once, my head feels as though it's about to explode, and I know why I'm sitting at home.
* Is it just me, or does this word make you think of Silence of the Lambs?
This ain't just any bug. This bug is set on stun. Be advised. Be healthy. All of you.
d
