Sickness

So apparently I went almost a week with mono without knowing it. Here's why:

Since last August, I kid you not, I have been sick seven times. SEVEN. My seventh graders, upon the third cold in December, smiled sweetly, telling me whatever I got was from them. Last Wednesday night, I started getting the sore throat I generally do when I get sick. I have this thing down to a system. I mean, my now-boyfriend came down with it in April or May, and I was able to give him an accurate hour by hour play of what to expect. Anyway. Wednesday night. Thursday I woke up feeling like I was hit by a truck. Seriously, I questioned what went on over the last eight hours of sleep that would make me feel the way I did. I live on the fourth floor and my walls were intact, so I'm assuming it wasn't the truck scenario.

But something strange happened Thursday, which I did my best to ignore. While my face was swollen to the point of wanting it to explode and not being able to open my eyes even half way, this was not the part that alarmed me. At dinner, with friends and their family, I got so warm, I thought I was going to pass out. Now I am never hot. Anyone who knows me, can attest to this. I. Am. Never. Hot. 90 degrees? I'm still cold, with my cardigan. I have more cardigans than I have pants, that's how cold I am. Seriously. Then when we went back to my friends' place for cake. I got so tired that when I sat down, I nearly had chocolate cake all over my face from falling asleep in it.

Since I don't listen to warning signs as it is, I still went out Friday for a bit and woke up early Saturday morning so dehydrated, death seemed like a reasonable option. Saturday and Sunday the pain in my throat and ears became unbearable. I broke down and went into a clinic on Sunday afternoon. Now, I don't have insurance, so if I go in to see a doctor, I expect to leave with a prescription that will literally save my life. I left, instead, with a box of Claritin. Claritin. I have never felt pain in my face like I have on Sunday, and the doctor had the nerve to give me allergy medication.

Monday, at six in the morning, I decided to go to a different clinic. I realize I should go to a regular doctor, but when you don't have insurance, it seems a bit ridiculous to have a "regular" doctor in the first place. Oddly enough, the new doctor found out within 30 seconds that I had mono. He then scolded me for waiting for it to get out of control before coming in. I'd direct him to the "no insurance" bit of this blog, but then I'd just feel redundant.

This was a death sentence for me. I am the person that does three things at once because I can. I pace during movies and TV shows. I'm that girl you hate to date because I get up to do dishes during romantic moments. I read, play music and fidget at the same time. When my computer is on, I have no less than four programs running. And two of those usually have a chat option.

I've been reading a lot. Music still hurts my head so I sit in my bed. Silent. I watch a lot of movies and stand up. Thank God for Netflix. I have looked out my window hoping to see an explosion, fire, building collapse of some sort that would require me to exert myself. As of now, no such luck. I'm hopeful for tomorrow though.