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Tuesday, November 08, 2005

greetings earthlings

Since last I blogged my weekend was spent, as the last few have been, in a fatigued state, temples pulsating in discomfort. Finally, on Sunday morning, having been awakened at 4 am by terrible headache, I said to myself, "Julia, go to the freaking doctor." This, by the way, is the advice my friends and colleagues have been issuing for weeks but I have a weird Christian Science proclivity to ignore Western medicine and just suffer through things with the thought that if I don't give in to them they will disappear.
So, at 10 am, I schlepped over to Ulti-Med, a clinic a block away from our offices, where in 10 minutes flat I learned I had: a sinus infection, an ear infection, a temperature and, the kicker: high blood pressure.
The last startled me. The one thing I've always felt slightly proud of was my perfect blood pressure in the face of constant stress and poor self-care. But they did say at the clinic that it might be high due to sickness, constant swallowing of sinus medication and elevated body temperature.
Anyway, I am now on these horrible horse-sized antibiotic pills that make me want to hurl every 10 minutes. Plus a crazy prescription antihistimine that makes me lose my appetite (which would be fine, except I have to keep shoveling food in my stomach to keep the antibiotics from eating my stomach lining) dizzy and sleepless. They also gave me some codeine, which I didn't understand at the time although the temptation to take it at night to put myself out of my antibiotic-nauseau misery is tempting.
And the lesson is? Don't wait three weeks to go to the doctor when you're sick. It only gets worse. I have written a letter to myself to this effect (the language in it is a bit more graphic and self-castigating) that is in Jonanna's possession to hand to me the next time I behave in this juvenile and pointless manner.
On the bright side, at least there's a good reason for my lackluster blogging, poor workouts and general malaise. I was starting to think I was depressed. And I'm not! I'm just diseased. I'm sure you will all sleep better knowing this. As would I if I could sleep at all. Still, four more days of meds and hopefully I will be as right as rain and ready and rarin' to go.
For now, though, I must return to my antibiotic-calming yogurt of the day (I don't like yogurt, I think it's stupid) and the constant swilling of water apparently required as well. I am a whiny, whiny patient but I am going to finish my antibiotics because I have now been informed, by dozens of people, that not doing so can 1. provoke whatever you have to morph into some worse thing (hello: science?) or, somehow or another, decrease the effectiveness of antibiotics in the general population (again: how?). None of this makes sense to me but I have decided to accept the fact that when it comes to certain types of adult behavior I am a lost cause and must simply obey the orders of others better versed in such matters.