I was at my worst when I woke up this morning, but now, barely five hours later, I'm feeling relatively fine. Still the occasional unproductive cough, ticklishness in the chest, but no more sense of exhaustion and stiffness.
I've missed two days of work now--plus I couldn't join friends for dinner and a show last night.
I have a cold. Yesterday afternoon I went to my doctor, whom I haven't seen in over five years. She didn't recognize me. She's a pleasant person with a pleasant, tolerant manner, gentle in reminding me that once a person hits 50 it's recommended that he have annual physicals.
Her assistant checked my weight, blood pressure, and pulse. She looked into my ears, nostrils, and throat. She listened to my chest and my back. Every time she said that a part of me looked good, I blushed with pride.
I told her I had a cough at about 5-minute intervals, no trouble breathing through the nose, muscle aches--though nothing riveting, sore throat, slight nausea, chest congestion, and had awoken Monday night covered in cold sweat.
She really couldn't say what it was, exactly. Tissue swelling looked minimal and I had a healthy color.
I had a cold. A virus, perhaps, probably nothing bacterial, but she would write me a prescription for Biaxin I could cash in a week if the symptoms did not subside by then. She thought the sore throat was the effect of breathing through my mouth while sleeping, due to nasal congestion--nasal congestion I was somehow unaware of, apparently. She would give me some sample nasal sprays to use once a day.
She was attentive, intelligent, and empathetic.
This morning the coughs seem to threaten to become productive. Some are explosive, snapping my whole body like a whip. But overall I feel more energy than I've felt in a week, so I take that as a hopeful sign.
No comments:
Post a Comment