No, really, I mean it. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. Just two weeks ago I had the head cold from hell while my daughter was down and out with the flu. I took a sick day for the first time in a very, very long time, rallied and got my sorry butt back to work. I truly believed that the household was out of danger from the flu, despite the fact that AshLynne's boyfriend had tested positive for it and had spend a week home from school and work. My reason for being so optimistic is that it's been TWO weeks, the incubation period should have been over. Hmm...not so much.
My headache got worse, but, you know, it was time for the Tylenol to wear off. No big deal, just take some more. My lower back started aching, but, again, I blamed it on something else...the new "grown up" shoes I'd worn to work on Monday. In all honesty, I never wear heels, and my new shoes have some good heels on them and my back's been hurting ever since. But, probably, three days after the fact, my back pain should have been gone.
I made it through class, got back to my desk and started coughing until I gagged. Then the hot flash hit. Oh shit. It hit me...this was no bueno at all. I snuck back into the lab, grabbed the thermometer and zapped myself with it. 101.6 on Tylenol. Shit, shit, shit. Can't be right. Nope. I'm impervious to microorganisms. I can't be sick. I slunk back into the office and handed the thermometer to the Education Assistant. She zapped me in the other ear. 101.7. Shit. Guess that explains the headache and muscle aches.
You know, for working in medicine as long as I have, I'm apparently pretty crappy at recognizing the symptoms of illness in myself. I'm impervious to microorganisms, I'm impervious to microorganisms...my magic anti-sick mantra didn't help at all today.
They couldn't get me out of the office fast enough and they are probably fumigating the whole thing as I type this. And they're probably saying that they knew I was sick all along...