Oh my gosh. The package says "extra strong" and that is_not_ an exaggeration.
All of your wishes for a speedy recovery are very much appreciated; and I'm glad to say that I AM slowly shaking off this dumb stupid virus. I'm behaving myself in my usual recovery-mode manner: grumpily and with enormous impatience.
I'm armed with my inhalers, cough drops, gallons of soup, and an old school style steam humidifier; I have an enormous stash of tea at the ready, my schnauzer at my side and my laptop on my, well.....my lap. So all I have to do to get over this thing is to behave myself.
Which, as we all know, rarely happens.
Whoever invented lotion tissues was a genius.
Isn't it so weird how Sjogren's dryness complicates recovering from a respiratory infection? At one end of my airway, my nose runs like a faucet. Where DOES all this watery mucous come from anyway? Meanwhile, my mouth, throat, and lungs feel dry, dry dry; which seems to trigger an unrelenting harsh cough. And don't even get me started on the effects of antihistamines on the whole situation which although may slow the nose drips; magnifies dryness everywhere else. Not to mention also amplifying the symptoms of restless leg syndrome.
Wah. Wah wah wah. I'll spare y'all a lengthy litany of my other symptoms.
John drove me down to the local drugstore on Saturday. I needed to stock up on cough drops and figured it would be an exciting outing. As I came through the front doors, the young gal at the cash register watched me shuffle down the aisles (literally shuffling - I stuck a pair of too-big-for-me John's shoes on my feet because they were conveniently sitting by the door) while coughing and sniffling into my sleeve.
I was a thing of beauty. Not.
Bless her heart, by the time I found what I needed and was ready to pay, the cashier had coupons for cold and flu products at the ready. I advised her to decontaminate the general vicinity after I left the store. Seriously.
I have to keep reminding myself that although I feel deeply and profoundly sorry for myself as I hack and snort my way through the week, that whatever discomfort I may feel pales in comparison to the two month recovery from my laminectomy last fall. It helps to keep things in perspective.