I’ve been sick. For the last week or so I haven’t been worth a cow-chip at a Frisbee match. It hasn’t been one of those “bundle up and go to the doctor” sick things. At least that's not how I see it. Although I’m beginning to get a little weary of Linda arching her eyebrows and rolling her eyes whenever I complain. Yeah, she told me to go to the doctor and I plain said, “No!”
Geeze, I hate to complain about stuff, but this has just about emptied my reserve of patience, which was running pretty damn low to begin with. You see, I’ve got Asthma—along with 23.2 million other Americans. So this is nothing new and I don’t intend to whimper and snivel about it. However, it is just about to get in the way with my livelihood. I mean, it’s gonna cost me money.
When I have one of my “episodes,” my lungs seem to just clog up. It causes me to cough. I guess it triggers some reflex somewhere and I hack until the crud in my system clears out. I can live with it as long as it occurs on an occasional basis. But, an on-going consistent battle with that dang cough reflex is frustrating. I mean it usually happens mid-sentence, causing me to stumble through the sentence half coughing and making disgusting guttural noises. If I’m talking to Linda, no problem; she understands and simply rolls her eyes at me. But, when it happens in the middle of a public hearing with the City Council and participants glued to my words, well that’s the pits.
I mean, good grief, who wants a defective consultant? Things are looking up. There are spells of sanity where I exist without the hacking nuisance. I plug along with these spells; hopefully the coughing spells are decreasing in frequency. At least, I think they are; I can’t really tell. Nighttime is the worst. When I lay down stuff moves around…lungs fill…head drains, and before long the cough reflex begins to signal time to battle through the fray. However, I’ve outmaneuvered the coughing foe; I sleep sitting up. My overstuffed recliner has become my new bed. Actually, the thing is pretty dang comfortable. But to sleep sitting up just ain’t right. And, sleeping sitting up does not prevent the coughing fits; it just lessens the intensity. So, I’ve decided that, if this doesn’t clear up a bit, I just might have to go see the doc.
Now, 24 hours have passed since I wrote the first line in this entry. Remarkable how much better things are. I’m not sure, but I think I owe most of this revival to God since in my delirium I recall praying, “Dear Lord, take this stuff from me and please let me get some rest. If you do that, I promise I’ll be good…or at least better.” Well, I can breathe and the fits of coughing have diminished substantially. What more can I ask for? And, although I still need to go in to see my doctor about a regular check-up, I don’t need emergency assistance for this particular sickness--don’t need it because the Great Physician has already done his work. I suppose that means I gotta get started on my end of the bargain--a deal's a deal. Now, that, I must admit, is going to be a tough assignment.