Speechless

I find myself having largely lost my voice due to my persistent cough, which, as previously mentioned, presents somewhat of a problem when working in a call centre. I have been fortunate enough to have understanding supervisors who are perfectly happy to let me respond to e-mails, instead of having me try to hit the mute button at justtherighttime when talking to someone on the phone so they don't hear my dry-but-sometimes-rattling cough.

I have a wall of phlegm in my throat that will not be melted, no matter what I drink, and will not be dislodged, no matter how much I hack or try to clear my throat. I have found a wondrous cough syrup, Neo-Citran for Cough and Flu, which is the only product I have found which lets me sleep most of the night. Like most yellow medicinal syrups, it tastes like ass, but hey, if it'll let me catch a few glorious hours of sleep like I wasn't getting earlier this week, I'll take it.

My fiancé has been wonderful throughout this mess. I came home from tutoring a friend late Tuesday night - the same friend who introduced me to the miracle medicine - and found a mound of pillows on my side of the bed (where only one lay before) so that I could sleep sitting up to help prevent more coughing. Instead of waking up about 15 times to cough or drink or blow my nose, I only woke up twice. It's been the trend for the past few days. I go to bed around 10ish and wake up with the sun.

I have told my boss I won't be in tomorrow as scheduled, because on the weekends I no longer have the luxury of working on e-mails; seeing as I can't say five words without tearing my throat apart... I'll finally be going to a doctor. Hubby has very sweetly offered to come with me.

According to Google, I apparently do not have strep throat. One of my colleagues has semi-freaked me out by implying I might have bronchitis. However, as all my congestion is in my throat and not in my chest, the sane part of me doesn't believe it. But... the part that's been sick for six days is going, "Omigod, bronchitis? I had bronchitis. When I was five. I had to stay in the hospital. In a bubble. I ate popsicles and didn't like the other food. The bathroom smelled like alcohol. I don't wanna go to the hospital again! [This last part said in a whiny, cranky, verge-of-tears way]"