Mus fuss and other annoyances

The problems mentioned in my previous two posts continue to plague me. Yes, things seemed improved on Saturday morning when my last posting was filed, but by evening they took a nasty turn.

By bedtime I was vomiting, and the fever had climbed to 100.9F. My sinuses had become completely blocked. It was impossible to sniff or blow my nose. Each time I coughed, I'd spit out yellow/green mucus, at times almost chocking on the stuff as it caught in the back of my throat (lovely image that - no wonder I live alone). I had no appetite but forced down water, juice, and some soup over the course of the day despite nasty noises stemming from my GI-tract. The Total Tummy Timpani was seriously upstaged by what sounded like a set of ancient and highly maltreated bagpipes taking up position in my upper right lung. The wheezing and droning was almost deafening. Could not find a comfortable position in either my bed or on the sofa. I was exhausted, but sleep was constantly interrupted by the endless coughing.

Now, gentle reader, I suspect you are asking yourself something along the line of "Why doesn't she go to the hospital?" Well, a couple of reasons. First, the on-call doctor at the Cancer Agency said they wouldn't be worried unless my fever hit around the 105F mark (I was only going to wait until it broached 103F). Didn't feel up to driving myself to St Mary's emergency, and figured the ER staff had better things to do that administer soothing words to someone with a nasty cold. Phoning anyone was neigh on impossible as I couldn't stop coughing and spitting long enough to ask for help. Besides, it was after midnight. What I really wanted was to just fall asleep, and felt if I did so all would be better in the morning.

At some point sleep did find me. Temperature dropped to a friendlier 99.0F. But the coughing and sinuses issues continued. Sneezed so hard at one point, a nose bleed added some extra colour to the situation. By now I was convinced I had pneumonia, but was not up for sitting in the ER for three hours (estimated time given this was now Sunday and all medical clinics would be closed so the ER would be more than a bit busy). Fortunately sleep had become easier, so resolved to call my GP in the morning.

On Monday, I went to see Mom's GP. My own GP was booked for the day, and since Mom's doctor knows a good deal about my situation, too, he presented a logical stand-in. Listening to the "crackle" in my chest caused him to agree with my pneumonia diagnosis. To confirm, he ordered a chest x-ray and blood word which I received immediately upon arrival at St Mary's. The doctor called later in the day to say that the x-ray did not show any pneumonia, my blood work was fine, and it appeared I had nothing more than a very nasty cold. He prescribed an antibiotic, and told me to use my inhaler whenever I was caught short of breath. I thanked him for his kind assistance, and promptly fell back to sleep.

Awoke Tuesday to find my sinuses much improved but the cough was hanging on. No fever, no appetite. I slept most of the day.

When the Cancer Agency study nurse made her weekly phone call on Wednesday (yesterday), she asked what antibiotic I was on. I said I wasn't on an antibiotic. For some reason, likely the fact that he called when I was napping, I misunderstood what the doctor had said. I thought he said he would only prescribe the antibiotic if the cough got worse and, since I didn't feel matters had deteriorated any further, I hadn't bothered to call about the medication. Within half an hour, the good folks at Pharmasave delivered the antibiotic Avelox to my front door (free of charge). I took my first dose immediately upon receipt, read a book for about an hour, and then resumed napping.  At last, all would be right in the world.Except that around 10pm a tiny intruder made it's presence known.

Over the last couple of nights I thought I heard strange noises about the house. A spoon fell off the kitchen counter. A pile of mending tumbled to the laundry room floor. Someone was rummaging in the candy dish on a side table in the living room. Last night I traced a scratching sound to my hall closet. When I opened the door, two very cute beady eyes met mine.

Okay, so I've toyed with the idea of getting a cuddly pet (Murphy definitely lacks in the warmth department) but a field mouse running amok isn't quite what I had in mind. For the better part of five hours, I chased the beastie. After a time, it turned into something of a battle of wits. It was fascinating to see how tiny a space the mouse could squeeze in or out of. Watching it think over how to overcome the various traps I set up was also an eye-opening. Trust me when I say these are highly intelligent creatures. Finally, I couldn't take any more. I called a truce and fell onto the sofa. This morning I call in reinforcements. A pest control dude should be arriving at more any time now. Good thing as I'm not sure how much more excitement this ol' body can take.