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It's official. My ass is kicked.
Jan. 8th, 2007 09:32 amWhen I went to pick up Scarlett last night, that feeling started creeping over me. I got so very sleepy, and probably dozed off waiting for her to come out of church. When I woke up I was shivering, but it was time to drive home, so I cranked up the heat. I managed to get some gas in the car, but I was so damned sore that every movement was extreme effort. I fixed us some hot cocoa, and took Tylenol P.M. An hour later perspiration was dripping off my head and I couldn't hold my eyes open. Fever thwarted, I dried off and headed to bed.
At two forty a.m., my body shook me awake. I couldn't bear the thought of exposing my skin to the air, but my covers weren't keeping me warm and something had to be done. I finally got out of bed, teeth chattering violently and barely able to walk. I think I had a brief glimpse of Parkinsons at that point, and I am not making any kind of a joke when I say that. The thermometer said my temperature was only about 100.8, but when I'm feeling good, it runs about 97. I fought the lid off the Tylenol, and the pills kinda shook their way out of the bottle. I grabbed my winter robe, my slippers, and a quilt - and sat on the sofa waiting for the fever to break. There was no way I could bear to go back to that bed and those cold sheets. Again, an hour later it felt like someone was pouring a bucket of water over my head, so I dried off and headed back to bed at four a.m. Stopped briefly to check my temperature again - still 100.6. Apparently when I break out in a sweat, the fever hasn't dropped yet, but Tylenol has simply won another round for me.
I decided at the last minute to come on in to work today. Dressed like a slob, and no makeup. My skin is tender from all the up and down temperature; my stomach is upset from too much Tylenol, and I feel like I've been run over by a truck.
I don't know if it will go back up or not. If it does, I'm fucked, because I don't think I can handle sitting here through the ordeal, nor do I think I can drive, if I'm shaking like I did last night. My neck and shoulders are so fucking sore!
I wish I'd stayed home to rest.
At two forty a.m., my body shook me awake. I couldn't bear the thought of exposing my skin to the air, but my covers weren't keeping me warm and something had to be done. I finally got out of bed, teeth chattering violently and barely able to walk. I think I had a brief glimpse of Parkinsons at that point, and I am not making any kind of a joke when I say that. The thermometer said my temperature was only about 100.8, but when I'm feeling good, it runs about 97. I fought the lid off the Tylenol, and the pills kinda shook their way out of the bottle. I grabbed my winter robe, my slippers, and a quilt - and sat on the sofa waiting for the fever to break. There was no way I could bear to go back to that bed and those cold sheets. Again, an hour later it felt like someone was pouring a bucket of water over my head, so I dried off and headed back to bed at four a.m. Stopped briefly to check my temperature again - still 100.6. Apparently when I break out in a sweat, the fever hasn't dropped yet, but Tylenol has simply won another round for me.
I decided at the last minute to come on in to work today. Dressed like a slob, and no makeup. My skin is tender from all the up and down temperature; my stomach is upset from too much Tylenol, and I feel like I've been run over by a truck.
I don't know if it will go back up or not. If it does, I'm fucked, because I don't think I can handle sitting here through the ordeal, nor do I think I can drive, if I'm shaking like I did last night. My neck and shoulders are so fucking sore!
I wish I'd stayed home to rest.
