Friday, June 15, 2007
Sleep: the Dream That Eludes
I had a nasty cold last week (which now Brian seems to be getting). It has progressed to a nagging, unproductive cough, robbing me of sleep and sanity. I sound awful, and not just because of the retainers. It is an effort to squeeze sound out of my throat. I showed up for work yesterday because I had four meetings I really didn't think I could skip; people there keep looking at me funny.
I was coughing at infusion on Tuesday, so the nurses had me talk to a PA. The PA asked me a series of questions about my cough and thought it might be a "reactive airway" thing, and asked if I'd ever had asthma. She set me up with an appointment with my general practitioner for Wednesday evening--I went to the doctor and wrote down as my reason for visit: "horrible, sleep-depriving cough." She gave me a boatload of medications (prednisone, an antibiotic, special cough medicine with a narcotic) and promised I would be able to sleep that night. The codeine made me loopy, I saw weird stuff when I closed my eyes, but I could not stop coughing and my brain would not shut off.
I'm still supposed to go for a chest ex-ray, even though everyone agrees my lungs sound ok. I just can't breathe without hacking. I am wary of trying to drive anywhere, even to get the chest ex-ray. I know that I am impaired.
I can't even think of a clever way to conclude this post. It looks like I will not be traveling to Cleveland this weekend (it would have worked out great...seeing my dad on Father's Day...quel bummer). I am going to try to drag my carcass to Race for the Cure Saturday. Maybe I should call and beg the doctor for either some kind of inhaler or a horse tranquilizer.
I was coughing at infusion on Tuesday, so the nurses had me talk to a PA. The PA asked me a series of questions about my cough and thought it might be a "reactive airway" thing, and asked if I'd ever had asthma. She set me up with an appointment with my general practitioner for Wednesday evening--I went to the doctor and wrote down as my reason for visit: "horrible, sleep-depriving cough." She gave me a boatload of medications (prednisone, an antibiotic, special cough medicine with a narcotic) and promised I would be able to sleep that night. The codeine made me loopy, I saw weird stuff when I closed my eyes, but I could not stop coughing and my brain would not shut off.
I'm still supposed to go for a chest ex-ray, even though everyone agrees my lungs sound ok. I just can't breathe without hacking. I am wary of trying to drive anywhere, even to get the chest ex-ray. I know that I am impaired.
I can't even think of a clever way to conclude this post. It looks like I will not be traveling to Cleveland this weekend (it would have worked out great...seeing my dad on Father's Day...quel bummer). I am going to try to drag my carcass to Race for the Cure Saturday. Maybe I should call and beg the doctor for either some kind of inhaler or a horse tranquilizer.
Labels: Brian, Cleveland, codeine, Dad, infusion, prednisone, Race for the Cure, sick days
