Since last Wednesday I've been afflicted by the changing tides of illness, one so debilitating it can only be described as Matt's last spurious case of Man Flu. I know I'm not a man, but after reading the Wikipedia article on Man Flu (I shit you not) I now know that Man Flu may at times afflict the unsuspecting woman.
So, being the conscientious gal that I am, I didn't want to infect my coworkers with this virus if it happened to be the Full-out Flu and not its more tempestuous cousin, Man Flu. I scheduled an appointment with a doctor for 3 p.m. the next day for a Flu test.
Now, doctors' offices have waiting rooms. Big ones and small ones. They are self explanatory, yet that does not assuage the agony of waiting to find out which dastardly strain of flu might have infected your once able body. Instead you lay in a heap of anxiety and wait. The doctor arrived and jabbed my brain through my nostril with an 8-inch swab, and then I waited. And waited. And waited.
Test came back negative, so it's not Killer Flu, nor Full-out Flu. Though the doctor mistakenly marked my chart with "Viral illness" when I'm sure she meant "Man Flu."
So anyway. I've been coming to work just trying to manage the Man Flu symptoms: sore throat, full sinuses, throbbing head, achy back. No fever though. I'm totally exhausted and my limbs feel 40 lbs. heavier, which is like the death knell for a fat girl. I already feel heavy every day.
Everyone seems to be getting either the Man Flu or the Oh-My-God-I'm-Dying-of-Ebola Flu. Neither are swell. But I'm lucky to have the manageable one I suppose.
Y'all be careful out there.