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I saw a delightful little PA named Vanessa.  While she wasn’t as charming as my regular doctor, she was delightful and thorough and very visibly concerned.  She confirmed that this is not your run of the mill cold.  Unfortunately, she couldn’t quite confirm what it is.  I admitted that I’d been exposed to sick children and a sick husband so I wasn’t sure what bits I’d picked up from whom.  Her concern is that it’s possibly not the bronchitis rebounding, but rather that it’s full blown pneumonia this time.

I’m honestly not sure anymore, all I know is every now and then I get smacked with the urge to cough and that urge doesn’t go away for up to 15 minutes, by which time I am totally gasping for air and trying really hard not to piss myself.  And really, that’s just no damn fun.

So she ordered a chest x-ray, which thankfully is just in the office suite next door and only took about 15 minutes total.  They have someone on staff to read it, it’s all electronic, so I should hear something later today.  Vanessa told me she’ll be calling out an Rx for levaquin (stronger, more broad spectrum antibiotic than I took for the bronchitis – and one of the few I’m not allergic to) and one for a prednisone taper pack.  Yikes.

I’m not sure how many of you following this blog have bipolar.  Hell, I’m not sure how many “people” allegedly “following” me are really people.  Anyway, bipolar and steroids aren’t generally a good mix.  Steroids will keep a non-bipolar person awake at night, they pretty well make us bounce off the walls at 3am.  So we take them, but with caution.  I’ve already put in a call to shrinky-poo to put her on alert and to see if Vanessa’s suggestion – 2 Benadryl instead of just 1 at night – sounds reasonable to her.  But if Vanessa is right – and I have no reason to think she isn’t – then the cheese in my lungs will keep getting worse if left alone, not better.  It’s so bad right now that you can hear me breathing from across the room – and that’s just from me sitting still and breathing normal.

I also talked to her about the fact that I poop entirely too much and in inappropriate ways.  Sorry, but 4 or 5 days a week of dealing with diarrhea is entirely too much.  And I’m not drinking heavily or eating a diet made entirely of lard.  What the fuck?  The really sad thing is that some days my beloved Immodium AD isn’t enough to stop it and I literally have to wait until every scrap of food has been flushed out of my system.  This is just entirely unacceptable.  So she’s getting me a referral to see a specialist.  Mom has warned me that this may require a colonoscopy.  *sigh*

I wonder if I could get Spielberg to direct it?

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