You wanna know how I roll? Well, lemme tell ya...
Last week, I paid off my credit card, and for the first time ever, got new furniture. I brought it home Sunday. I should have known better.
Monday. Lunchtime. Off to the gym to work out with the girl from the office. I pull around to stop in front of the building, and keep rolling. The pedal goes to the floor. When I finally stop, I get out, and there's fluid leaking from behind the front right tire. wtf?
So I take her back to the office, pull around and slow down to a crawl because I don't want to push out all the fluid. She has to open the door while we're moving and shuffle out of the way in time for me to maneuver around a trailer parked up front. I head over to the shop and ask them to take a look at it.
Back at the office, I get a call from the shop foreman. It's a brake line. (really?) They won't have the part until the next day. I can take a loaner car home for the night. Fine. At least I'm not without a way home and back to work.
1993 Buick Le Sabre. Or, better known as "Low-Rider Boat." I say low-rider because A) it sits much lower than my jeep and 2) I can't figure out how to adjust the seat forward so I'm laid out hangin' on to the steering wheel for dear life because that's the only way I can reach the pedals. Ever seen those little old ladies driving the big cars that look through the steering wheel? Now you know why.
Next morning, I wake up with serious aches in my chest. Like a chest cold without the cold. I have trouble breathing, am coughing a lot, but no fever, throat doesn't hurt, and I generally don't feel bad. It just hurts like a bitch to cough.
Shop foreman calls me... parts won't be in today. Keep the loaner. Argh. Fine. I'm in so much pain, I don't care. I end up going to the doctor because I tend to have a lot of trouble with respiratory issues from when I was young.
I get in there (six pounds lighter than the last time I was in - woo hoo!) and the doc tells me everyone is coughing. Fine. Just because you have a student doctor following you around doesn't mean I won't tell you to stop being an ass. I explain the no fever, no sore throat, etc... thing, and he double-checks my blood pressure, which apparently was pretty whack when the nurse took it. She wouldn't tell me what it was. When he took it, it was 120/95... bad bottom number. I had not yet taken my meds that day, and he said it was coming down so when I took the meds it should be better. Either way, he ordered chest xrays. Typical. I'm fine with that. Surprise, though, while the films are developing, he's ordered an ECG. So I go into another little room, hook up to all these wires and wait. The nurse tells me to lie still, don't move. I ask if I'm allowed to breathe. She laughs. Yes. Hey, just clarifying. I've not had one of these done before. After a few minutes, she comes over, says we're all done and starts yankin' wires. Ow. She takes me back to the room, and takes about 2/3 of my blood in many large vials (vampire convention in town this week?) and we test for thyroid, sugar, cholesterol, etc... I wait.
White blood count comes back 6500. Doc says that's normal, and indicates that I'm not fighting anything in particular. XRays show lungs are clear. yay. ECG is mostly normal, although I have #((($))*!&$. Yea, I didn't catch that either 'coz it was a big word that I hadn't heard before and that was when my cough decided to stage a coup. I asked him what that meant. Basically, my heart slows down. Hmmm. Not his biggest concern at this point. Guess it's not life-altering yet. It is non-viral bronchitis with a pinch of pleuresy thrown in for good measure. Brought on, most likely, from second-hand smoke from my father, daughter and her boyfriend, and working in a grain facility with lots of dust.
So, doc gives me a 3pack antibiotic with pills larger than most men, one of which they want me to take immediately. Nasty fuckers. They also give me some really yummy cough syrup with codeine so as to make me sleepy and rest better. btw, it does not make me sleepy, nor does it make me sleep better. Annnnd, it is not yummy. Armed with those and advil, I'm off.
I head back to work. I think. I make the last turn onto the road on which our plant lies, and the brake pedal goes to the floor. No, I'm not kidding. I just bypass the office and pull up straight to the shop. I get out, and underneath the right front side is a newly forming puddle. If you look closely, you can see the trail. No frickin' way.
I leave word with the receptionist, and let them know I'll be back later for another loaner, and head back to work. Later that day, I go back over, and the foreman asks me what the hell it is with me and brakes. Look dude, I don't know what the deal is, this is some crazy shit. He says this is the last one; if I mess up the brakes on this one, I don't get another vehicle. I just laughed and told him to fix my damn jeep.
No troubles with the second loaner. Well, nothing mechanical. This was a full-size pickup truck. About three times the size of my jeep. I decide to back into the driveway at home because we're at the very end of a dead end street, and sometimes parking is crowded. I'm not going to fight trying to back around cars I cannot see. I back into my drive, think I've done pretty well. Then I get out, walk around to find that I still have well over a car length behind me. My daughter laughed at me. It was pretty sad. I told her I didn't know how to back up something that big that didn't have a trailer that swung the opposite way... and I was sick, so get off me already.
Today at work, I'm in so much pain, I can barely breathe. It hurts to laugh, cough, breathe too deep. Swell. My throat is raw from coughing so much, but it's not sore. Weird. I feel like if I cough really well, I should feel better. Wrong. I could only feel better if I hack up a lung. Which feels like a very distinct possibility at this point.
I took the third and final pill today. Whatever is in there is dying a slow, horrible, painful death. Know how I know? Because my ass burns from going to the bathroom all the time. I'm dehydrated, and I feel like I've been beaten from my chest to the bottom of my ribs. I shall soon have to wear a super-size pad backwards to cradle the hemmorhoids that will soon be making their debut. You know that involuntary clenching your body does when you feel the contraction all over, but nothing comes out except the sweat from your brow? Yep, multiply that by four. What progress we've made when the cure is worse than the ills. I keep breaking out into coughing fits, and it seems like a little more is coming up, but not much. I may be done with the pills, but they supposedly are super-doses and continue to work for another 4-10 days. great. Needless to say, I have not been working out at lunch this week. I could easily see me collapsing on the monster. My ass is still the size of Montana, and working steadily towards Texas with this week-long break. Always something.
Oh, and let's not forget that throughout this ordeal that started 3 days ago and the jeep breakdown, I am on my PERIOD.
That'll teach me to ever buy new furniture again... dumbass.