Illness: Part 7 - Misery Loves Company

I admit it. I was starting to feel invincible.

I haven't been sick since I had my thyroid removed seven months ago. This is unheard of. I was a sickly child, and I became a sickly adult. If there was an illness nearby, I got it first and I got it worst. After my thyroid was removed, however, it immediately felt as if it had been poisoning me. Everything was better without it, absolutely everything.

I was exposed to all manner of illnesses, and caught none of them except for a mild cold. I was tired, congested and had a scratchy throat. It was nothing compared to what I was used to. The comparison would be like the difference between having your washing machine overflow and having to huddle on your roof waiting to be evacuated by helicopter during a townwide flood.

So, yeah, I got cocky. I said to my husband, more than once, "I wonder if it's even possible for me to get sick."

Last weekend, I went with my high school debate team to our state level competition. My son and daughter were both sick, but recovered fairly quickly. By the time we drove home, my husband and I had it. It wasn't too bad. The worst part for me was a sore throat. I had to continually chew gum or drink something to keep it from feeling dried out. I was tired. Still, it wasn't debilitating. I drove over 500 miles without a problem.

A couple of days later, just when I thought it was going away, the illness moved down into my lungs. I started sounding at good moments like Lauren Bacall and at bad moments like Wolfman Jack. I tried to sing along with the radio, and nothing came out except an odd squeak. I'm asthmatic, but I only need an inhaler when I'm sick, so my inhaler was two years old and not very effective. I was feeling exhausted, from low oxygen levels as well as from illness.

I phoned my doctor's office; it took over 24 hours to get an answer on a refill, and I was informed that I'd need lab work before I could get another refill. Already sick and grouchy, this made me grouchier. Labs? Am I suddenly not supposed to be asthmatic?

The inhaler was helping, but then I got hit with a whammy. About 90 minutes after I went to bed, I was woken up by stomach flu symptoms. I won't go into the gory details, but I spent as much of that night in the bathroom as I did in bed, and I seriously feared getting dehydrated.

My husband got the bug, as did my son. It only lasted about 24 hours. The worst of mine was over in about 8 hours, but it hung on for closer to 48 hours. As I write this, I'm hoping it's actually gone.

I have now been miserable for almost a week. I still can't breathe properly, and my insides are still rumbling.

OK. OK. I get it. I can, indeed, get sick. Lesson learned.

Now that we're all clear on this, can we ask the illness to move on?