When each coughing spasm I have (I can't say *fit* because it really does feel like my chest muscles and diapragm go on strike more than over-react) makes not only my chest hurt, but my back, my shoulderblades, and my sides?
Hmm. A *really* bad weekend to be sick during, especially considering that, um, NO doctors are available, and weren't since Wednesday (some of them since Tuesday!!).
Nothing is really helping me feel much better, ie I feel the same before taking my OTC cold meds as I do an hour or two after taking them. You'd think it would make at least a *little* difference, right?
Ehhhhhhnnnnnn! The answer is NO. At least, that's what my body keeps saying to be between bouts of hysteria each and every time I *try* the cold meds again. Yes, my lungs, they are LAUGHING at me... and then they go on strike, making me sound like a 94 year old man on oxygen. But, without the oxygen. Man, it sucks.
Thankfully, Grey got the flu shot on Wednesday. So if this is indeed the flu, he's all good. However, I'm thinking more along the lines of HE picked this up first, spun it around in his impeccable immune system for about two days, and then sent its fucking mutated cousin after me, what with his 37 tentacles and 3 eyes... wait, you mean cold germs *don't* look like that? Damn.
And there goes entertaining myself with images of the battle raging in what is my pissed-off immune system.
I am Jack's lungs. I am the virus destroying Jack's lungs. I am Jack's anger.
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