I died.

Since Saturday, I've been feeling under the weather. It started out as a sore throat that lasted a day or two, and then I started sneezing and having sinus pressure and started to feel congested. I assumed it was just allergies because there is a thick layer of yellow pollen covering everything in sight. Tuesday night, I felt it all settling in my chest. I was wheezing and had developed a nasty cough. I felt like death. Again, I just assumed it was allergies and that maybe that had caused me to start to develop an upper respiratory infection. I was so sick and congested that I was coughing and wheezing and snoring in my sleep. It was apparently so bad that B got up in the middle of the night and went to sleep in the guest room. Poor guy. He came back in to our room to check on me when he woke up yesterday morning. He sat next to me on the bed and rubbed my back. Our conversation went like this:

A: I have some sad news. I died. I'm dead now. Tell me the nice things you plan to say about me at my funeral. 

B: Well, I will tell everyone that you were extremely kind, that you had a very nice booty, and that you lived a long and happy life. 

A: 28 years is not a long life. 

B: I know it's not. But you're also not dead. 

That man just gets me. (I also love that he said I had a very nice booty. Priorities, people.) I drug myself into work because I knew I had stuff that I had to do. My boss comes in at 10am every day. The first thing she said to me when she walked in was, "Girl, I love you, but you look like shit. Why are you here?" I told her I felt awful but that I had stuff to do and that it was probably just allergies. Then she heard me cough, and I was concerned that one of my lungs would fly out and land on my desk. She politely insisted that I go home and take my laptop with me so I could work remotely. She reached over and felt my head and told me that I felt feverish and made me promise to go see a doctor on my way home. I promised, gathered all my things, and drove myself to the nearest Urgent Care. 

They made me wear a sexy face mask so that I didn't spread my germs. When the doctor saw me, he took my temperature and listened to my chest. With a very concerned look on his face, her told me I had a fever of 102 (and 97 is normal for me) and told me that I have a pretty bad case of pneumonia. Really?! He called in an antibiotic for me and sent me on my way, telling me to get lots of rest and stay hydrated. 

I emailed my boss with the bad news, and she replied and said, "I KNEW IT!" I told her that if it was alright with her, I'd work from home for the rest of the day and also the following day, so that the antibiotics could get in my system and I wouldn't be contagious. She emailed me back and said, "Please just work from home the rest of the week and you can come back on Monday when you're better. I'm hereby ordering you to stay in bed ALL DAMN WEEK and nap as often as you want to. I love you but I don't love your germs." There are so many reasons why I love my job and I love the people there. I have never worked anywhere that was so understanding and compassionate when it comes to dealing with illness. I also am incredibly thankful that my job can be done from the comfort of my bed and that I was not forced to use up any sick days. 

I spent the rest of my day working on my laptop in my bed, waiting for CVS to call and tell me that my prescription was ready to pick up. They never called. Keep in mind that my doctor called it in to them at NOON. Around 8:45, I begrudgingly drove myself up there, assuming that they'd just forgotten to call me. The pharmacist told me they were running behind and Id have to come back and pick it up tomorrow. At that point, I literally burst into tears and tried to explain to her that I had pneumonia and needed that medicine hours ago. (Let me also paint you a picture of how I looked at the time. It was pouring rain and unseasonably cold. Most of my winter clothes are put away. I had on no makeup, my face was red and puffy, and I was wearing my glasses. Since I was battling a fever, I was so cold. I'd thrown on the only sweatshirt I could find, which just happened to be bright red and said Meowy Christmas across the front. I looked busted and felt worse than I looked. And on top of all that, I'd begun to ugly cry like Kim Kardashian or Dawson Leery.)

She huffed and puffed and grumbled and finally filled my prescription. It literally took her maybe three whole minutes. I thanked her profusely and told her she was a lifesaver. She huffed and muttered, "Ugh, whatever." I guess someone pissed in her Cornflakes that morning. 

I still feel like garbage today and I guess it's going to get a little worse before it gets better. I'm just thankful that my boss played the Mom Card on me and made me go to the doctor. If I would have let this crisp go on for another day or two, it's very likely that I would have ended up in the hospital. Pneumonia is no joke, friends. I'm just ready to be better 

Love,

A