Well, I went to the doctor today to find out what the hell this constant cough/sore throat/sniffles thing is about.
Seems that back in March when I thought I had the flu, I actually had either bronchitis or pneumonia. They did chest x-rays and such, and loaded me with medication. I've decided that after this much time, the anti-biotic may be a good idea as it appears to be a bacterial infection that's holding on like mad. Thus, drugs. Woo hoo. I do lOOOoooOoooooovve to take pills, almost as much as I love digging splinters out of my ass.
Yes, I've had to do that. It was an old wooden dock by a lake and no one warned me. Shut up.
I always feel sort of Gomer Pyle "Golly" when I learn I've been more than nominally ill. I always have little illnesses, minor things (a lifetime of being hauled into the doctor by my over-protective mother who believed medical science was EVERYTHING and doctors were godlike) and being accused of hypocondria has made me reluctant to do anything other than stay in bed when I am ill. Oh, it's complicated.
But...a multi-syllabic illness? Goooolllly!