Late one night back in fucking March I was attempting to drift off into slumber when I notice a slight scratch in my throat. Great, I thought, a sore throat to deal with. The next morning I did what I do every time a sore throat rears its ugly cough, I upped my vitamin C and looked for some cough drops. The sore throat turned into a cough and progressively got worse. Late in the month, I was the lucky recipient of a CPAC machine because my doctor thought it was a thing I should try. I didn’t really feel it was necessary as I haven’t really noticed any sleeping issues other than getting to sleep, but I am in the privileged position of having two forms of insurance, so I was willing to give it a shot.
CPAC machines and coughs don’t go well together. By the time Endgame was hitting theaters, the cough was keeping me awake at night, and I could breathe with the CPAC thing on my face and hack up a lung at the same time. I happened to have a regular check-up late in April and mentioned the cough. I thought, and my doctor agreed that it was probably allergy-related. I’m generally not a person that suffers from allergies, but I have had shipboard related allergies while in the Navy and the symptoms I had at the time were similar. Scripts for allergy meds were written, and I was on my way.
The cough didn’t go away. I was back at the doctors in May, and this time, a wheeze was detected. The wheeze was a new symptom and indicated bronchitis. I was prescribed two z-packs and sent on my way with a follow-up appointment in June. For the life of me, I don’t understand prescribing z-packs for bronchitis. Since I had never had bronchitis before I did some googling and everything I read indicated that antibiotics are not recommended. Whatever. Two z-packs later and I was not better and had actually started coughing so bad I would throw-up. Like Regan from The Exorcist kind of puking. I just needed a priest to toss out the window, and I’d be set for my own major motion picture.
When I went back to the doctor in June, and the cough was worse, it was time for testing. Chest x-ray. Pulmonary test. I was also given some steroids just in case it was a bacterial infection that needed something stronger to fight. At this point in my life, I never had, that I remember, been given steroids for anything. I don’t know if it went well at all. I spent the weekend in a stupor. I vaguely remember watching Hannah Whitton on YouTube talk about her bra problems because of her “massive tits” (her words). Her video must have had some kind of effect on me as when the steroid-induced fog lifted I had an email from Bravissimo stating that my parcel had been shipped. I can’t remember the last time I bought a new bra, and I don’t even remember buying this new one. K.
Back to my lungs. No issues were seen on my chest x-ray. I failed the pulmonary test. Asthma. So, the doctor gave me an inhaler to try out and sent me on my way with a follow-up on August 8th. As I type this, I have no idea if the inhaler is working. I’ve read, and others have told me that it could take up to two weeks for any effects to take hold. The two-week mark would have been this past Thursday. I used the last of my inhaler this morning. Grrr. My doctor gave me one inhaler that is supposed to last 60 puffs. But the directions he gave me were for 2 puffs twice a day, which means the inhaler was only good for 15 days. I have two more weeks until my next appointment. I did message my doctor on Friday but did not get a response from him. Yes, I am irritated and tired of coughing. My voice sounds like I’ve eaten glass and I’ve eaten so many cough drops that I fear my throat will never be not numb and my tongue will forever have a slight red stain on it.
Oh, the bra arrived. I like it.