And because the Weather Gods hate me, the threat of icy roads/actual icy roads/generally bad conditions has closed not only my doctor's office but every doc-in-a-box in the area for the last two days.
Which means I'm starting Day Three of Old-Fashioned Flu. Which means I'm no longer a candidate for antivirals. Which means I'm riding this out old-school style: leapfrogging acetaminophen and ibuprofen, forcing fluids, and wishing desperately for some cough syrup.
I know I railed against Tussionex last time I was sick, but right now I would happily pay a hundred bucks for a dose of the stuff. I'm so high on dextromethorphan (which doesn't work; I know that, but I'm desperate) that I can barely walk straight.
This morning I woke up at 0430 in a drenching sweat, thinking "Thank God! My fever's finally broken!" It had--to 101.
So it may be a while before I post again. I'm going back to the couch.