Tag Archives: fever

The best laid plans

I had big plans for Labor Day.

Despite the great advice I shared two days ago, I was going to work the day away.

ear My ears had different plans.

I had a slight cough yesterday — so slight that I thought it was a reaction to something in the air — but in the middle of the night, I woke up slightly disoriented with chills and fever.

I took some meds for the fever, but it was even higher this morning and my head hurt, so off I went to urgent treatment.

The diagnosis: an ear infection. My ears were ‘as red as the chairs in reception.’ (They were pretty darn red.)

I got a big ol’ bag full of drugs, and have been parked on the couch all day, trying to get my fever down and my spirits up because I feel like crap.

And I didn’t get a lick of work done.

I also appear to have called my boyfriend at 2:45am. For his sake, I hope that was a quick hang-up that he didn’t hear.

(Sorry about that.)

Steam cleaning

The Sticky Egg has the flu.


And as with most cases of the flu, I feel feverish and tired and achy.  I’ve been thinking about how great a massage would feel. Of course, I don’t think a masseur would want anything to do with a client with the flu.

How rude.

Perhaps I should skip the massage and go for a newfangled spa treatment that has just arrived in the United States. It’s a freakish thing called chai-yok.

You sit on a open-seated stool and steam from water infused with mugwort and wormwood and other herbs is blown into your nether regions.

It’s purported to increase fertility, get rid of hemorrhoids and fight infection, although doctors haven’t exactly gotten ‘behind’ the spa treatment.

If you live in Los Angeles, you can go to a spa and steam your private parts.  If not, there are at-home kits available.

Perfect for flu-y folk like me.

Seeing red

I am the latest victim of  ‘the cough.’

You know, the cough that we’re supposed to cover with our arm now?  Well, a person who will not be named here did not.  She let her cold germ-infected cough spew through the air of a small, not-so-very-well-ventilated green room, and spray all over those of us unfortunate enough to be sitting there.

In less than eight hours, I smelled snot.  And it was in my nose.

By the next day, that same snot was pouring out of my head.  The glands on one side of my neck were swollen.  I was running a low grade fever, and my voice sounded like a truck driver who smoked three packs a day.

All because of one uncovered cough in a small room.

To add insult to injury, I get nosebleeds when I blow my nose as often as a cold of this magnitude entails.  So, that’s fun.

But, today — day three of the tragedy — the fever has broken.  The DayQuil/NightQuil combination has stemmed the flow of mucous from my body.  Heck, I even felt like doing laundry this morning.

The crisis has passed.  Only the bitterness remains.

And a super-sexy, husky voice that I need to put to good use.