Hello and welcome to Fishhaus. Grab a cuppa.
The last post I wrote before this WCS was a WCS. That’s how my week has been.
If we were having coffee, I’d tell you not to sit too close to me since I’ve been a walking patient zero for two weeks. Two weeks ago Friday, I came home from work and had a dizzy spell. Had I not been lying down, I would have fainted. I spent all day Saturday with a sinus headache so bad that I had to hold my head to keep it from splitting in two.
My sister, the nurse, gave me some antibiotics (I cannot type antibiotics without first typing antidepressants. Is it just me?) for the sinus infection we thought it was. I did feel better on Sunday–at least my head didn’t need restraint to keep from exploding like a frag grenade–so I thought that’s what it was. Then, a week ago today, I woke up at 3am unable to breathe. Not to get too graphic on you, but I blew my nose and the entire state of Wisconsin came out. Hello, Scott Walker! Get the fuck out of my bathroom. Well shit. Since 3am Monday morning, I have had a severe head cold.
It turns out that nurses aren’t so good at diagnosing things since I’m pretty sure the sinus infection and the head cold are the same bug that just morphed. I’m fairly sure of this because my sister also acquired this lovely parasite and that’s what the doctor told her.
Normally, I’m not the type of person to go into work sick. I have a compromised immune system from meningitis as an infant. My immune system pretty much kicks ass at getting rid of things once they’re in, but it’s incapable of keeping them from getting in to begin with.
My version of your cold will be so different that you wouldn’t think it was the same bug. Mine will be incredibly severe, but short-lived. For example, in high school, there was a bad strain of mono going around. Kids were out sick with it for weeks, and in some cases, a month or more. I got it for three days. For those three days, I couldn’t move. I remember trying to crawl to the bathroom and passing out in the hallway. For three days, I was essentially comatose, but I pretty much felt better by the end of the week.
I don’t normally go into work sick, because I’m not a huge hypocrite. If there’s a virus floating around, I’m going to get it, so I get very angry if I get sick because people refuse to waste their sick days being sick. I don’t want someone else to get my illness, so if I’m sick, I stay home where I belong.
But, not this week. No, this week, in addition to all the regular nonsense I have to do, I had a special project thrown at me. The owner was in town because there’s a huge trade show this weekend. In months of planning for this in three office across the country, not one person thought that maybe, since they have a big booth at this trade show, that they might want, you know, signs to put up. Not until Monday anyway. The show started on Thursday. I had to quick like a bunny pull some banners from my ass with time left enough to actually print them and get them to the show to hang them. Derp.
Monday and Tuesday were the days I felt the absolute worst and they were the days that I absolutely had no choice but to be at work half-assedly working on a half-assed project that should have been done months ago. Like a trooper, I got it done. Somewhere in a convention center are signs I made while feeling like boiled ass left out in the sun all day. Good times.
Oh, and by the way, this was also my regular deadline week, so I lost two days of work time that I’m sure won’t be credited me in the final analysis of “why wasn’t this done on time?”
I went to bed between 9 and 10 pm every day this week, including the weekend, and I still don’t feel well. It’s been two friggin’ weeks. C’mon, immune system. Kick this already. I’m beginning to feel like a regular person sick for two weeks.
Let’s see, what else happened? Oh, right. There’s this:
That thing that looks like a tooth mark on the back of my hand? Yeah, that’s a tooth mark. My dog got into a fight at the dog park, and as usual, like a goddamned moran, I reached in to break it up. And, as usual, I got bit. My dog never starts fights, but she’ll damn well finish them.
Fortunately, it’s not as bad as the last time I got bit:
Yeah, that hurt. In case you can’t tell what body part that is, it’s the back of my ankle right where my Achilles tendon is. Had that bite been a little deeper, I might not be able to walk. The dog that bit me was not licensed and I wasn’t sure whether it was up to date on its shots. The owner literally ran away like a sissy girl after it happened, so I didn’t have any recourse. Fortunately, nothing happened besides a lot of pain and another scar.
So, yeah, the one tooth mark on the back of my hand ain’t that bad, but it’s a fairly awkward place to have a cut. First, there’s no meat there so it hurts like a bitch. Second, every time I put my hand it my pocket, I scrape it and it makes me go owie.
My dog, by the way, is fine. She had a cut on her gums, but even the next day, I couldn’t tell where it was. Dogs are way more resilient than we are.
In a couple of hours, I have to go play my dork game. We’ve been having trouble getting our schedules together lately. Finally, we managed to get everyone together for a date this past week, but I was sick and deadliney so I couldn’t go. They played on without me and we leveled up! Hurray! So, yesterday, in addition to all the other business I’ve let slide being sick, I had to level up my characters–both me and the bear.
In case you can’t read my writing, that says, “fucking bear (still not armored).” I have legible handwriting unless I have to write a lot, e.g. when filling out character sheets. After half a page, my hand cramps up like a chicken foot and I find it impossible to write legibly. I’m so glad we don’t have to hand write blogs.
Also, please, excuse the mess around here. I probably should have said that when you walked in. I could have chosen to vacuum this morning or talk to you, and I chose to talk to you. Aren’t you lucky?
So, yeah, no time or energy for blogging or anything fun this week at all. I haven’t even had time to respond to comments on my own damn blog let alone peek at yours. I have no idea what’s happening in your world. What did I miss?