I get bronchitis once a year, usually as allergy season kicks in. This year it came early, but I didn't let it drag on for a month before I saw a doctor; I went after seven days. It started as laryngitis. Aha! Maybe that's a warning indicator for me. The first subtle warning was a sudden drop in stamina while running. (I thought I had lost my fledgling mental game, actually.) Then came the chest pain with no other symptoms.
And then.... Laryngitis. Aww come on, I'm not THAT talkative!
I probably fought off a cold successfully, but not the bacteria that tends to cause my bronchitis. And thus I developed a bacterial infection in my upper respiratory tract with resultant bronchitis.
I was JUST starting to advance in my running! But I have to take it easy for a while. *sigh*. I have to remember not to beat myself up over this, a factor I had no control over. If I push too hard, I won't get completely well and I'll probably relapse.
I guess I should just be satisfied with the fact that my throat is almost healed from all of the rawness of last week and that now I can drink all of those lovely bronchitis-healing liquids I couldn't bear to swallow much last week, try though I might, and I never got enough.
On the brighter side, I've started doing stretches for piriformis syndrome, and my "dead leg" no longer seems to be dragging. I feel the pinching still, but I can use it normally. I haven't tried so much as a slow jog with it though. *cough, hack, wheeze*. I'm not up to doing the full complement of physical therapy stretches yet, but I will probably have to.
We were released from school yesterday for impending freezing rain (which started as I got into my car at 1:45, so it was a good call to leave early. Today was excused as a snow day as well. So what did I do? I rested my butt off.
I accepted the inclement weather time-out as good rest-in-bed time, and that's just what I did. I slept about ten hours today, and I'm still pretty tired, but not coughing as much, nor as brutally. I'm still working on the Popsicles for my throat, because it is healing rather dry, and it sticks together quite often.
Confession: When I made my "getting ready to be sick in bed" run to the store for comfort provisions, I bought a 12 pack of ginger ale and a 12 pack of Pepsi, which I haven't done in a long time. Under (previously) normal circumstances, I would make excuses to drink a couple of cans every day until it was gone and I was feeling guilty. I think that in a week, I drank 1 Pepsi and 3 ginger ales total. (I tried orange juice, but it was excruciating, and even Crystal Light hurt too much after a couple of days. Then water started hurting too, but I forced myself to drink it.) The rest are still sitting there in the box. That should prove how raw my throat was. :).
In bed, trying to stay warm, tired tired TIRED! Running would be tough, even if my coughing didn't bring accusatory stares from fellow gym goers for being a possible agent of contagion. Resting, coughing, expelling, hydrating. Necessary steps. :-/ It's not laziness.
My central heat is temporarily working, but needs a new blower, uncrushed return duct (how did THAT happen?), and an honest repairman who doesn't forget what is wrong, what he has seen, and when he said he would be back, and then cover it by telling another version to someone else, who agrees that I'm just an idiot because I'm female.
Yeah, I'm aware of what's being said, and I'll forgive your sexist attitude if I can get my central unit repaired. I'm not stupid, but I will admit this mechanical stuff bores the daylights out of me, so I don't study it.
I just want it to work properly, and I'm willing to pay fairly for a proper repair. :). Really! But I've been put on the back burner until the repair guy forgets what needs to be done, and then forgets me entirely, so what can I do about it? Nag? Okay! I'll become a naggy b!
Anyway, I'm imagining all of my running gains draining away, here in the middle of week two of "sick woman recovering." Maybe I'm wrong... Maybe I will only lose a week's progress or so. *sigh*
Weird dream this morning.... There was a cherubic blonde-haired little boy in my dream, holding out his arms and wanting me to take him. We played with Legos. He was a smart little fella for a toddler, because he built me a little Lego forklift with wings. :) I know, weird. I woke up crying. No need to analyze that one. It's pretty obvious what it means.