Mucous

I have too much mucous right now.

At some point last night, between, 7:00 and bedtime (early for a change, because I was feeling so punk), the post-nasal drip I've been experiencing from my allergies of late made a sudden, painful drop into my chest.

Lovely.

I can't cough--coughing requires getting a good gust of air, and taking deep breaths is physically painful at the moment. When I can, I force myself to cough, but I'm afraid all that force is going to make me throw up (it's happened before).

To add insult to injury, my phone line went down yesterday, taking my DSL Internet connection with it. I called AT&T and listened to that annoyingly cheerful automated voice long enough to set up a service appointment for today between 12:00 (noon) and 4:00 (afternoon). Then I sat down and made a bunch of cards for my Etsy shop while drinking tea and watching Harry Potter movies.

(On a side tangent, I finally finished Book 7 today, thus wrapping up my annual re-read of this awesome and amazing series.)

Then last night, the shit hit the fan (in the form of phlegm hitting my lungs) and I found myself gasping and uncomfortable.

So today, I gave myself a break. I skipped the gym and running, and the most strenuous thing I did all day was walk over to get my mail--and that left me breathing like I'd just run a couple of miles. I lolled on the couch, reading. I drank copious amounts of tea. I had a quick shower and settled back on the couch just before noon, eagerly awaiting the technician from AT&T.

Hours ticked by. You know how when you're anxiously waiting for something, time crawls? Yeah. The afternoon crept by like that old tortoise, while my patience and ability to be reasonable fled like the hare. Buh-bye, sanity. Zoom! There it goes.

By 4:00, I was hopping mad. I had figured I'd get this issue fixed up and then run to the grocery store for some Mucinex. I had grand plans to be parked on my couch again by early evening, happily feeling my chest clear up while glancing over at the computer every once in a while to see if any tell-tale red numbers cropped up on my Facebook page.

At 4:15, I got through to a human being at AT&T, who informed me that the service technicians were running behind today, and to expect them "within the hour."

By 5:15, I was on the phone to another human being, asking, politely, what the goddamned holdup was, and why I'm still sitting here, wearing a bra when I could be in my pajamas, napping on the sofa. With Mucinex, preferably.

The lady informed me that they were very behind (knew that!) and would hopefully be here by 7:00...and if they didn't make it, it would automatically roll over to tomorrow morning.

"Fine. Thanks." I ground out, hanging up. Tomorrow? Oh, hell no!

Finally, around 6:15, my cell phone rang. It was my friendly neighborhood technician, letting me know that he'd be around soon. I told him if he came to my door and I'm not at home, "Please don't leave! I'm sick and I need to run to the store for some medicine!" He agreed, and within 15 minutes, I'd sped through Marina Marketplace, bought some Mucinex, and arrived home. By 6:40, I'd swallowed some Mucinex and was leaning against the kitchen counter, gasping painful, whistling breaths of air through all the mucous and crap in my throat.

Around 7:00 I looked at my modem. There was no longer a flashing red light--just green lights all across. I picked up the phone--a dial tone! I immediately got online and caught up on everything I couldn't see on my miniscule cell phone (basically everything but my email inbox and Facebook homepage--I can load my blog on my phone but it takes ages and the screen is too small to get a decent view).

It's now a little after 9:00. I've had some NyQuil (research shows that NyQuil and Mucinex are okay together) and a long hot shower. I started the water running at its hottest, closed the bathroom door, and waited about five minutes before going in to a steam room. That helped a bit. I forced a few deep coughs in the shower, further loosening up some of the crud.

The NyQuil is kicking in, and in a few minutes I'll be tucked up in bed. I hope to feel well enough tomorrow to work out. I took the weekend off, as usual, and missed today, so I'm feeling quite lazy and lethargic. I also don't want to get yelled at for not "pushing through the pain" if Gershom should ask why he didn't see me today. I reserve the right to smack him if he tells me I should run when I can hardly walk to my mailbox without getting breathless.

There's still a lot of crap in my chest but I'm feeling like the meds, combined with all the tea and water I've been drinking (and peeing, good Lord, the peeing!) all day and a good night's sleep, will help a lot.

I have lots to blog about--Saturday in wine country, the homemade cranberry-raspberry sauce I made yesterday before the phlegm hit the fan (and ate all in one afternoon because it was SO. GOOD.), and other little bits and pieces. But all that will have to wait. My bed is calling.