Sick as a dawg

Just over a week ago, I got another cold. I've actually lost count of the number of colds I've had out here in Canada - far far more than I'd ever have expected to get back home, where I'm actually pretty damn healthy - not to mention that sodding bronchitis I had, so when this one developed I thought, ah well, back to the old decongestant spray and cough sweets, good thing I've still got some left over, eh?

The cold was fine in the first few days and didn't stop me when we went to Kicking Horse, but the aching I described at the end of my last post seemed to get worse throughout the day, along with a general feeling of malaise and exhaustion. This is weird, I thought, until about 4pm on Saturday, when I realised that I was in fact ill. Ah, that explains it. I warned my boss I might have to call in sick and went home to rest. That night my whole house were heading out to celebrate Rachel's last night in town by going to a Jelly Wrestling party*, but I was beginning to develop a temperature so as the others headed out, I headed to bed instead. A fitful night saw me with a raging temperature in the morning and so weak that I couldn't call out to get my flatmate Chelsea to come in to my room. Eventually I called our house phone with my mobile (ah the wonders of modern life) and she came in. Paracetamol and ibuprofen did not seem able to knock my temperature down so Chelsea - and gawd bless her cottons for this - got cold flannels and sponged me down. I was scared, because I haven't had that high a temperature in years and genuinely thought I had meningitis or something. I got Chelsea - who seriously deserves a medal - to check me for rashes. Eventually she had to go, leaving me with a nashi pear for sustenance, and I spend the day drifting in and out of sleep, at times hot, at times cold, in the way of such things.

The following 2 days saw a steady improvement, though the cold, which I've now come to think of as unrelated to the subsequent flu (and this was proper flu, not just a bad cold) was able to proliferate in my weakened immune system to the extent that by Tuesday, when I was able to leave the house with friends to go shopping, I was literally a mucous factory. I've never produced so much mucous in my entire life. I was thinking of setting up some kind of bio-chemical plant, because I reckon if we could find a way to make it power cars, I could be rich, rich I tells ya. Or I could use it to make a rival product to blu tack - green tack I thought I might call it - and conquer the world that way instead. Anyway, I went to a pharmacist to ask for help with reducing the mucousy proportions. He suggested psuedoephidrine, which I was sure was the stuff that used to send me a bit loopy as a teenager, and have avoided ever since just in case. Still, I was desperate, so on top of my already extensive pharmaceutical line-up of ibuprofen, acetominophen (which is what they call paracetamol over here for reasons best known to themeselves), xylometazoline nasal spray, antibacterial/anaesthetic lozenges and Ricola swiss herb cough drops, I gave the psuedoephidrine a go.

Yes, it was the stuff that made me loopy as a teenager, and yes, it still has the same effect now. I was on the floor half an hour later - not a metaphor incidentally - and was high as a kite for hours, much to the amusement of my friends. Nonetheless, I had planned to go curling** with the gang from work, which I decided I was up to so off I went. It was fun, though who would have thought that my natural clumsiness would have extended to being on an icy surface, wearing one slippy shoe-cover, and attempting to scrub furiously at the path of a large heavy object? Who knew? Several new bruises later and we headed off to Mel's, because it was 2 friends' birthdays and there was a fancydress party going on. All the girls were dressed as things beginning with D and the boys with things beginning with E (first letters of the names of the birthday boy & girl). Gravy, Ben & Nathan had gone as the Euro Ski Team (sponsored by Spam), which we just had to see, and other notables included a duck, a domino, and the most terrifying interpretation of 'Tickle Me' Elmo you're ever likely to see this side of a Stephen King adaptation. I managed to bear up till around midnight, at which point I started feeling very hot, and realised I was about to faint. I quickly crouched down and got helped out by the doorman, who had just had the flu himself and understood such things. I got home and went to bed, only to spend the entire night lying awake, naturally.

I went home from work early yesterday and today have called in sick again, on my boss's recommendation. Will probably go to the doctors, though this is not a decision to take lightly over here because a) I don't get sick pay so I'm losing money by being off and b) it will probably cost me around $150 to visit the clinic. I reckon I'll barely make rent this month at this rate. However, since I'm still a mucous factory (bouncy balls, anyone?), have a very sore throat which the pharmacist the other day reckoned was the beginnings of 'strep throat' and, on top of all of that, looks like I'm developing conjunctivitis in my right eye (thanks, surpressed immune system!), it might be a good idea. Plus I'm a bit scared of my boss and if I don't go she'll be cross with me. Ah well, that's what credit cards are for, I suppose.

Increased numbers of white blood cell thoughts from everyone please.

*Banff is full of such things. It was in a house, they had a large pool lined with plastic and several buckets of jelly. And yes, people got into their swimming costumes and wrestled in it. Gravy was one of them - wrestled with 2 bikini-clad girls I understand - and he is still finding jelly in all sorts of nooks and crannies.
**yes, the thing where you slide big lumps of rock along the ice towards a target, whilst your team mates scrub furiously at the ice with a broom. And in answer to your question, why not?