As both of my readers know, Santa offloaded a big old nasty case of Omicron in my Christmas stocking. Now granted, I’ve been sicker. I’ve had much worse cases of bronchitis. It lasted about four days and I’ve been asymptomatic since December 28.
There have been some lingering after effects. Ii still have a slight cough with a now colorless phlegm (your welcome!), it’s still taking a while to regain my once Herculean strength. Everyday it gets a bit better, but it’s taught me what an energy zapper it’s been been, hauling around a gravity-prone 62 year old ass. As Covid Jr. was exiting my body, I felt truly weak. I had mono as a Freshman in HS. It was reminiscent of that kind of fatigue & weakness. I hadn’t lost my sense of taste or smell, but I can assure you, eating was the last thing on my mind. I had no appetite and as it is, having MS can on occasion affect the way some things taste, so even post Omicron, I still don’t have much of an appetite. The point is, I now have less ass to maneuver but I still need a power nap after maneuvering it.
The lung congestion is getting better all the time. I no longer have ”itchy lung”, know what I mean by that? It’s all but gone, but this past Wednesday, something happened that made me wonder if maybe a few of those little spiked WWll sea mine lookin’ bastards…
hadn’t found their way back in my bod to play tag with my immune system.
I was on the phone with my sister Kathy, when this immediate wave of nausea overwhelmed me. my closest receptacle option was my kitchen sink. Yes, gross….I know, but I didn’t have time to debate locations. As soon as I arrived at the sink, out it came with a Vesuvian like flow. Like a tsunami, wave after wave of this microbial terror attack on my gunnite sink. Then, a cease-fire was called. It offered little reprieve. A second wave defied gravity to make it’s exit. And if that wasn’t bad enough, a regiment from the south decided to get in on the action.
I swear I heard a tiny bugle play, ”Charge”!
So, there I am in my tastefully appointed kitchen, wretching like a fiend from one end and impersonating the Trevi fountain (in dire need of chlorine) on the other end.
I stopped long enough to make it to the bathroom, where a trash can liner allowed me to make my “deposits” happen simultaneously.
For roughly 25 minutes, it was the eighth circle of hell. I smelled sulfur. I sensed brimstone. For the first time, I was actually happy to have an exorcist on speed dial.
I managed to temporarily damn all bodily rivers and streams and after tidying myself, crawled into bed. I was hot. I knew I had a fever, but Mr. Mercury in my thermometer said I didn’t. Then, I got cold. Dark side of the moon cold. I was shivering under three blankets and a thick comforter. I couldn’t get warm. I’d shiver as I made mad dashes to the bathroom. I’d shiver after crawling back in my bed, wishing it were a sweat lodge where Carlos Castaneda and I were just going through the latter stages of a peyote bender.
I slept intermittently and while I quelled the nausea courtesy of a gel filled Benadryl. Make a note of this, it contains diphenhydramine, the same active ingredient in Dramamine, and despite taking Pepto and Immodium, and but the other problem still existed.
I couldn’t eat anything, but I tried to stay hydrated. I ultimately stabilized on Thursday evening and felt it safe to send Father Merrin back to his archeological dig in Syria. I hadn’t eaten anything in more than 24 hours, but I wasn’t at all hungry though I forced myself forced myself to eat cheese and drink water. By Friday morning, some natural urges reappeared….no urgency this time…..and I was rather shocked at what was produced. I looked down and saw what looked like someone had just emptied a gross, old can of dog food into le toilette.
I took one look at this dog food facsimile it was and even sick, the comedy writer cane out in me.
I shook my head and said two words, ”Anal-Ration”.
Turns out, I’m fine. It was just a little 24 hour intestinal bug. In fact, I was hungry tonight and through my grocery store’s delivery service, I went ahead and spent $34.50 for a six ounce ribeye!
So, Monday I’m taking my Pfizer booster. Wish me luck. I have to have it since we’re supposed to be traveling out of the country in March and I want to get it out of the way as soon as possible. As previously mentioned, I had such a bad experience with the second Pfizer jab and then got Omicron four weeks later, so who knows what’ll happen with a third shot.
Knowing me I’ll probably get diphtheria or one of four other previously eradicated diseases as designated by the World Health Organization.