I'm not always the best at self-diagnosing. My mom has known this my whole life as I used to insist that my stomach ache was from something she fed me... not gas bubbles rumbling around. Or I would be convinced my body simply wasn't hungry, that I would never need to eat again, and I would continue with my creative expeditions in my room (or whatever I was doing) until finally I crawled downstairs, exhausted from no fuel to keep my creativity flowing. Mom was always right... yes, it was gas and yes, I was hungry.
So here I am, a grown woman. I have now learned to diagnose when it's gas bubbles and when I am hungry because I forgot to eat, but new puzzles about my well-being have dawned on the horizon. For example, I am just out-of-breath after walking up the stairs because I haven't worked out in a week, right? Or maybe it's just the San José altitude affecting me again out of nowhere. And maybe the reason I can't sing at church is because I didn't eat very much so now I just don't have very much energy. And maybe the reason I'm coughing up green stuff is just from the cold I had last week... right? And I'm just so exhausted and weak because I've been trying to do too much extra stuff after school... right?
Last year my bronchitis diagnosis came after a neighbor told me to go to the doctor because my coughing was keeping her up at night. This year, the diagnosis came after Blanca told me we should go to the doctor because I felt feverish.
So off we went yesterday to the doctor. Yes, fever. Yes, junk in lungs. Yes, medications.
And then today I took the day off. Is it bad to admit that a day off to do nothing but sleep is actually quite heavenly?? :)
So next time I have bronchitis, I know the symptoms. Quick loss of breath. Cough with the lovely green. Pressure on my chest and upper back. Not being able to sing. And an impending emotional breakdown (right Mom? :)).
Give me a week or so and hopefully I'll be back to my usual creative nonsense.