I feel like I’m getting sick. My chest is tightening, it’s harder than usual to breathe, my throat is sore, and my sinuses and eyes are bothering me. It’s a combination of allergies, fatigue from doing too much without rest, and the inevitable chest congestion that comes after I cry.
side note: it never fails. If I cry, I get snot. And it drains right into my chest or something. fuckity fuck.
I called the local community clinic this morning to try and get in to see a doctor. The soonest they can get me in as a new patient is Wednesday, even after they were told I have COPD and I’m coughing. The lady scheduling me said “so this is for a cough?” and I said “yes, and like I said I have COPD which means a cough requires a doctor” just to underscore the urgency I’m feeling here.
I ain’t mad at the doctor’s office, though. I get it, I’m not the only one that needs a doctor, and even though a cough is dangerous for anyone with COPD, I’m not fucking dying, so triage. Also, new patients take more time because paperwork, medical history, all that shit.
Some days, I get a little bit sick and tired of being sick and tired. Right now, I’m almost having one of those days. Which is fucked up, since I’ve spent the last two days doing not much of shit except for the important shit one does when one wants to feel productive without actually doing shit: Pinterest, Reddit, Twitter, internet shopping…
side note: four pairs of shoes that are all more than appropriate for life here in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. don’t judge me, with shipping, it was less than $45 and there’s a pair of Wolverines (which are kind of considered BIFL) included in that
As I was saying, I was doing all the shit one does to feel engaged and productive when one can’t really be engaged and productive, with a few household chores thrown in for good measure. The household chores were probably not a great idea, since none of them have turned out to be as simple as they seemed. The clothes dryer quit working, so I had to lug all that heavy wet laundry to the clothesline, I ran out of clothesline and Sunshine had to string up another one; the bathroom turned out to take forever to clean because shit kept exploding out of cabinets and medicine chests at me; and I still haven’t finished cleaning it because I can’t find the windex to clean the mirror and the backsplash (murano glass mosaic tile).
What I’m dealing with right now goes far beyond hammered shitness or ain’t shitness. This is scary. My COPD means that I can’t afford chest congestion, and since I’ve had pneumonia (that probably scarred my lungs) chest congestion is even more dangerous. Chest congestion is the one thing I do not fuck around with. Well, not since the pneumonia thing, at least.
In the end, I’m sure I’ll be OK. It’s just going to suck until I get to the other side of this.
Until then, I’ll sit on my couch and do productive shit, as one does when one wants to be productive but can’t actually do shit. Like Pinterest, Reddit, Twitter, internet shopping…
final note: regardless of how shitty I feel, I am going to carry my ass to go vote. It’s something that was denied me for too long, and I’ll be damned if I let some shitty COPD and chest congestion take that from me today. And since I’m 98% sure I’m not contagious, I’m going to go vote.