Bronky

So.

Alex popped a fever around 2. Matt picked him up, and then picked Penny up, and then took Alex to the local Urgent Care clinic, since the pediatrician's office was booked solid and the best they could give me was that maybe, if I called back in the morning, the on-call physician would be willing to see him. Rrrrright. Doc-in-a-box it is, then!

Doc-in-the-box diagnosed Alex and Matt with bronchitis. Gave them a stack of antibiotics and some narcotic cough syrup (for Matt) and sent them home to rest and recover.

Huhn.

I've been hacking like a three-pack-a-day tuberculosis patient with asthma ever since, oh, about Thanksgiving. My allergist had looked at it back at the beginning of December and called it a mild cold, so I'd been steadfastly bulling through it ever since.

Aheh.

So this morning, I went to the doc-in-a-box myself and -- hey, whaddya know! -- bronchitis! You've never seen such a horrified look in your life as the one the doctor gave me when I told her that we were getting on a plane in two days. She wrote me prescriptions for the same antibiotics and cough syrup that Matt got, told me to get as much rest as I could, try to eat lots of fruit and vegetables, possibly get a humidifier or a Vicks vapor thingamajig to help loosen the gunk in my chest, and to avoid exercise.

And here I was feeling all proud of myself for going to the gym three days a week anyway, despite the persistent and annoying cough, thinking that the exercise would surely keep my body healthy and get my blood moving, keeping a fresh rotation of white blood cells to rout out those nasty germs.

Heh.

Heh heh.

Heh heh he-*cough cough cough wheeze cough cough hack...