So, since Sunday I have felt miserable and I realized that like most things in life, illnesses cause multiple mental stages. I do not claim that these are consistent for everyone, but for me and my semi-melodramatic, insane self, this is how it has been:
Stage 1: Get your affairs in order, it's all over. Sunday night when this started I literally made my peace with God and thought I was not waking up in the morning.
Stage 2: You made it through! Ahhh, waaaitttt, my heaaaddddd. Monday morning was bitter-sweet. Yeah, I didn't die Sunday night. I saved my woo-hoos though because oh-my-gosh, where did my energy go? Leaving bed was the saddest thing to happen to me since I left my favorite cardigan at the mall. (Take a moment. I loved that cardi.)
Stage 3: My cough is still rough, but I'm pulling through! Wednesday was an OK day; I had my energy back, only my cough remained. No biggie. Until the cough got worse on Thursday.
Stage 4: Forrealsies Bronchitis? You're still here? Today I feel much better except my nose is running a marathon and my cough is never ceasing. This stage is almost as bad as the first because all that energy that came back is being devoted to angry Becky because I'm just ready for this to be done. Have I not been sick enough? Go forth, bronchitis, and find a new person to torture or try to mutate into something we haven't been able to treat yet.
Needless to say, the battle is not yet won, but I refuse to give up. I have a feeling that Dayquil and I will be BFFs for a while longer.









