my marcel the shell impression

Hello, world.  It appears I have survived and am beginning to come out on the other side of this sickness (though I am not yet one hundred percent healthy).

I started coughing a little bit on Thursday, but thought nothing of it and went about business as usual.  Which included a three-mile run and a good dose of strength training in the evening.  I vividly remember telling my mom that my workout was “good, even though I seemed to get tired really fast” over the phone.  I woke up on Friday with a fever and reluctantly admitted I shouldn’t go in to work.  Considering everything had come on so quickly, I crossed my fingers that it was just a twenty-four hour virus and would be gone before I knew it.  After yet another restless night with the space heater on high, I realized that wouldn’t be the case.  My fever had gone down slightly on Saturday morning, so I hoped I was at least getting better.  Then, in the middle of the day, my fever spiked even higher than the day before (despite my constant dosing of Advil).  My throat had decided to join in and I was basically impossible to understand.  My mom offered to fly out to help me, considering I was teetering up and down two flights of stairs to get food, and there was no way I would be able to get all the way down to the basement to do my laundry in order to have clean sheets.  I stubbornly told her no, that I needed to stick it out myself.  That night/morning, I was unable to sleep (yet again) and got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, using my phone as a light.  I accidentally butt-dialed home at 5:00 am, and my mom picked up.  I hadn’t called her all day due to my difficulty speaking, so it was the first time she’d heard me since Friday.  Breathing had become extremely difficult, and my mom panicked when she heard me struggling for air.  After stumbling back into bed, I received a call at eight am from my mom.  She was in the car on the way to the Detroit airport, having decided to fly out to New York City.  She urged me to go to the Emergency Room as soon as possible, in case my breathing should become worse.

Sooo at about nine, Ben, the guy who’s in charge of all our residential stuff, took me to Beth Israel, the closest emergency hospital to 305.  I was taken back and examined, and they decided to take X-rays of my chest in order to check for pneumonia.  It took them about two hours to get back with the results, in which I just laid in the hospital bed in a stupor coughing up my weight in phlegm.  No pneumonia, though they did suggest I come back if it persisted and that I head to a doctor in a couple days for a follow-up.  They gave me a prescription for heavy-duty Advil and a decongestant and sent me on my way.  By the time Ben and I returned to 305, my mom was close behind.  After cleaning my bedding, we decided it would be easiest to get a hotel in order to get some peace and quiet.

So, I’ve been here at the hotel ever since.  Watching some TV (such as: NCIS, The histories of ice cream and cheese on the History Channel, Bones, and Law and Order), eating awesome NYC takeout, and sleeping like the dead.  Though I was reluctant for her to come, I’m glad my mom is here.  I have no doubt that moms have magical healing powers.  I think I felt better immediately upon seeing her again (then again, it could have been all the junk that made its way out of my chest as a result of moving around during my trip to the hospital).  I’m not here long enough to spend any more time sick than I absolutely have to.  The hotel helps, too.  I love everyone at 305, and they shouldn’t have to worry about catching what I have or feel bad about talking in the halls at night.  I think I’m finally on the upward swing—my breathing has been much better today, and I’ve been able to eat a lot more than I have in the past few days.  I’m still a tiny bit feverish and my nose is running like crazy, but it’s actually a relief.  I’m gonna LIVE, people!!!

This experience has definitely challenged my new resolve to be an optimist.  At the same time, I think it was the perfect situation to test it.  I’ve come out with flying colors, if I do say so myself.  I took care of myself when I needed to without complaining, but I also accepted the help of others when it was offered (which is not always easy for me to do!).  Every time I found myself spiraling, I would think of something positive to pull myself out.  Examples:  this is giving me time to veg out and sleep.  I am so thankful for South Park online.  I’m so glad I have all these episodes of Family Guy on my computer.  Feeling this bad is just a sign that my body is working hard to get me better.  I’m lucky to have such a loving, wonderful mom.  And, last but not least: my Marcel the Shell impression at last has been perfected!  It would have been easy to look at this as a gigantic speed bump in my travels and say “why me?”  But I’m going to see it more like a turning point in my personal growth.

And I’m also going to take a page from the book of my mom and start using a LOT more hand sanitizer!!! ;)

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