Pneumoniabetes

Pneumoniabetes :: the newest disease sweeping the nation. While I’d like to take credit for the catchphrase, props go to a dear friend who coined the term in an effort to help me laugh at myself. (Sadly, it worked as I’m easily amused.) Regardless, this modern-day plague took over my body last week and has effectively wreaked havoc on everything in its path.

The fun initially began two weeks ago when I noticed a sniffle and a sneeze. For more than a week, the ugly cold took residence in my head and worked diligently to interrupt my life. Being the stubborn young lady I am, I wouldn’t let it. But then Tuesday night happened. My friends, (maybe you’ve heard of them) the ketones, showed up. They brought with them a fever and chills. Wednesday morning, I trudged along to the doctor and was diagnosed with pneumonia. I was treated for that, along with the flu, though my flu swab came back negative.

For the next three days, I stayed in bed desperately wishing my mother lived closer. I fought with achy muscles, runny noses and clammy skin. I effectively ruined two of my favorite T-shirts and my softest sheets thanks to an unprecedented four nosebleeds. It was not my favorite week of the year. On top of all the excitement, I missed my Valentine’s Day plans to see the Emancipation Proclamation on tour in Nashville. (I’m a proud history nerd.)

So five days of pneumoniabetes later, I’m still dragging. The fever and ketones are long gone, but the runny nose and cough linger still. You’d think with all the medicine I’m taking, it would get the hint. Alas, my goals for this week are lofty: I hope to finish my antibiotics like a good patient, shake off the remaining symptoms and convince my taste buds to once again, taste food.

I leave in a little more than a week, and my prayers revolve around having happy and clear lungs by then. (OK, and maybe for the taste buds, too. I mean, international food? Yes, please.)