Hey Buddy, Can You Spare Some Robitussin?
Oh yeah? Well I got one too, chickie baby and it's gonna take more than a 50-year-old package of Vicks to get me moving.
It started with a simple little case of what I call "Lauren Bacall-itis". A little laryngitis that gave me a deep, sexy voice for a day. All I needed was Humphrey Bogart and I would have been a happy woman. Didn't even feel sick.
Then the aching. That was yesterday. No sweat. I little ibuprofen and I had a good six hours of relief. I coughed a few times, but hey, who doesn't?
This am I woke up with a tight chest, a wee bit of stridor cleared by a now painful, non-productive cough and a voice that sounds like a longshoreman.
Pardon my language, but WTF? I had the flu shot. And I have too much to do to be down-for-the-count.
I bit the bullet. I called in sick. I don't think that was a cause for joy amongst my co-workers who now have the dubious privledge of trying to cover my 12-hour shift.
That's another thing about being a nurse.
You can't ever get sick without feeling guilty about it.