I managed to make it through an entire winter of seeing patients with various upper respiratory infections, colds and flu without getting sick myself. I credit that to lots of vitamins, exercise, good diet, washing my hands like an obsessive-compulsive, occasionally masking-up if a patient is really cruddy and probably the most important factor of all–good ol’ fashioned dumb luck.
My luck has run out apparently, because I’m sicker than a dog this week. It started with a tickle in my throat Sunday night, progressed to fountain-like snot-works on Monday, and by Tuesday I was generally weak, lethargic and unable to breath beyond that which was necessary for minimal life support.
I even rescheduled my Tuesday afternoon patients and stayed home from work yesterday, which is a rarity for me. I usually try to work through colds and just suck it up and go in anyway and try not to breath on anyone. But this time, I didn’t feel the sight of the doctor holding his head and moaning, not to mention the colorful snot-works, would do a lot to inspire my patients’ confidence in me.
I’m not exactly a stoic when it comes to being sick. I moan–a lot. Just ask Eyegal. She is a stoic when she’s sick, so my moaning, whining and groaning are like fingernails-on-the-blackboard to her. But she did the Christian thing and tried to be nice to me anyway–bless her heart–and she even made me a grilled cheese sandwich and soup for lunch.
But I really feel that moaning and groaning helps you get better faster. No use in keeping all that misery bottled up inside where it just festers and makes things worse. I think it’s a little like bloodletting, only a lot less messy.
I’m headed back to work today, and I think Eyegal is feeling better already.