28 Days Later (the sequel)

I have been sick now for 31 days, 16 hours, and 15 minutes–or something around that–and you all know this very well because I’ve spared no opportunity to bitch about it on this blog.  For the last four to five weeks, Cats In Your Pants has been more like Frogs In Your Lungs, and for that, dear readers, I am sorry.  I assure you, the reign of whining and complaining is almost over–well, at least as far as being sick is concerned.

My symptoms these last five weeks have included, at various times, the following: sore throat, runny nose, stuffy nose, excessive drinking, headache, severe cough, vomiting (in my mouth because of the cough), binge-gummy eating, irritated family, acute whining, ear aches, single-person parties with Sizzurp (a.k.a. purple drank, lean, syrup, Texas Tea, purple jelly), chronic bitching, dizziness (non-medicine induced), dizziness (medicine-induced), dizziness (alcohol induced), fluid in the ears, loss of voice, irritated roommates, unreasonable spending on non-heath care related items, pressure in the ears, irritated friends, loss of hearing, stomach sickness, scratchy not-so-sexy smoker voice, particularly feminine and irrational emotional breakdowns (some on the couch and some on the floor), and sore ribs from coughing.  I know, it’s been a wild ride.

Fortunately, five weeks later and probably three weeks too late I went to the doctor and left with a diagnosis, prescription, and fancy face mask to protect others from my “active cough,” which I learned today is a “persistent and continuous cough.”  Anyway, the diagnosis is a melange of infections and the prescription is diarrhea for two weeks.  Actually, the prescription is for an antibiotic but the only memorable moments I have from past antibiotic use is persistent and continuous diarrhea–perhaps that might be called active diarrhea?  I don’t know, whatever the medical term for it, I call it absolute hell and would almost rather have my eardrum burst and run down into my sinuses, aggravating my infection and resulting cough.  But, I am guessing it will provide some interesting blog posts so I’m going to go ahead and do it.  Kidding, I wouldn’t dare blog about such a disgusting, and personal, topic and experience–poop in the pants is about as far as I take it.

I do have standards, which may surprise and/or shock at least one of you who thinks I’m an enormous pile of vomit/poop/drunk trash.  Well, January is going to be a shitty month (pun intended) but I do aim to rise above at least the poop and vomit stigma that I have arguably gained over the last four months. The New Year will usher in a new Eleanor and a new Cats In Your Pants.  Gone will be the days of blogs about vomit, drinking, sickness, childish behavior, and mayhem.  Actually, if that were the case, I wouldn’t have a readable blog, so I take that all back.  If you aren’t interested in any of those topics, stop reading my blog and I’ll buy you a subscription to Good Housekeeping and ship you a box of tampons.

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6 Comments

  1. jeneralinsanity

    You had me scared for a minute! I was all: NOOOOOOO!!!!! She can’t stop the nonsense! That’s the whole reason I read this shit! I love this shit and stuff!
    WHEW!
    Sorry you’ve been sick for so long. At least you have anti-constipation meds, I mean, antibiotics, so you’ll start feeling better soon. Or at least be able to hear again…

    1. catsinyourpants

      Well I am relieved that someone feels that way. I must admit, being likened to a huge–no wait, enormous–pile of shit (and vomit) hurt my feelings a bit. Then again, that observation was from someone who used to know me, so maybe there’s some truth behind it. But fuck that either way!

      I have to ask … what’s up with all the turkeys in your city?!

      1. jeneralinsanity

        We only have the one guy with two of them around here. One is just enormous, but the other is obviously either brilliant, or mentally unstable. It’s a fine line…
        I keep making threats to him that one of these times, I’m just going to eat him. I don’t think I could pluck it though. That sounds creepish.

        FYI: I’d totally still snuggle you, even if you were a pile of shit and vomit. In that case though, I’d want to be the big spoon.

      2. catsinyourpants

        Sort of creepy, but I’m aroused. I’m delighted to hear some of my readers would still get a snuggle on with me, despite all my trashy shortcomings. I promise not to poop on your knee!!

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