Tuesday, October 4, 2022

Tuesday Slice: Let it burn

 

The cough has been coming on for a few days, but the fever didn't hit until Saturday night.  Just a smidge under a hundred; I wasn't feeling too prickly, so I took a Mucinex for the cough and headed to bed.

I woke up at seven-thirty, dizzy as soon as I sat up.  Checking my temperature a few minutes later confirmed my suspicion--I was a smidge over one hundred.  After making my coffee, I settled in for a day on the couch, getting up to rehydrate, check my temp, and take a COVID test, which was negative (whew).

The thermometer kept bouncing between ninety-nine and a hundred all day.  I was hoping it would burn itself out, but the thermometer read one hundred point four after my four-thirty alarm on Monday morning, prompting a text to admin and a sick day entry on the absence portal.

Monday came and went in a haze of PBS shows, some light reading, and feeding a returning appetite.  Temps continued to remain below a hundred...would I get to go to work on Tuesday?  The intermittent coughing decided to become more constant at bedtime. After a midnight trip to the kitchen for more meds, I bunked on the couch, propped up by pillows and hopefully out of earshot of my sleeping husband.

The four-thirty alarm was brutal...but temps are below a hundred, and sub plans are a pain in the rear.  Off to work I go, with cough drops in my pocket.

4 comments:

  1. Ummm-- you might want to take another test if you haven't already... hope you're feeling better!

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  2. This is Fran McC (sorry, not anonymous)
    You describe that escalating sick feeling very well. But your post also reminds me what a bad deal sick teachers get- it brings us back to work too soon.

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  3. Uggg, not fun. I hope you're on the mend. Someone on my campus had similar symptoms, but not Covid. Something out there is making its rounds.

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  4. Alas, Chris, I hope you're felling much better now. The grind of the days also makes us vulnerable - not enough rest, so much to do. Your descriptions are so vivid that my own throat started scratching. I imagine you wrapped in that beautiful afghan made from your mother's yarn, for the layers of healing therein...

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