Okay, I give up

Do you know what I am going to do today?

Call the doctor.

I know people from near and afar have been singing that tune for nearly two weeks now, but I truly thought I was getting better. I WAS getting better. In fact, I would have assessed my health yesterday at 5 as being 85% of the way towards getting better.

Do you know what that narky 15% of "not better" did last night.

It kept me awake.

It forced me to sit up in bed (I am a one flat pillow sleeper). It made me lie on my back (I normally cuddle that pillow on my tum).

It made one tiny spot on the back of my throat force me to cough - and then it got the lungs to squeal in sequence and make that cough into a cough-and-cough-and-cough-and-cough.

Then it would lull me into a false sense of stupidity security and make me think it was over, I could try to sleep, ha ha ha ha bloddy ha. Nearly asleep yet? Wham - lets play that sequence all over again.

It got to a point that I gave up on even trying to think I was going to get to sleep, because it was pointless. That didn't really help matters, because the cough sequence didn't care if I was trying to sleep or not. It just waited until I seemed to relax.

Now the next two paragraphs (after this one) (I counted them) will be TMI and I won't be offended if you sing "la la la", close your eyes and scroll down further. I will be peeved if you click the little black x but hey - its a free world and statcounter doesn't tell me who leaves my pity party early. It will possibly be so layered in euphemism anyway because I am not often a TMI girl.

Now, for those who aren't squeamish, who have birthed one (or more) childrens who hit the 8 pound or over mark and who are nodding their head in anticipation - you KNOW how there are just some things you cannot relax about when you have coughing lurgy.

I know - if you did your Kegels earnestly from the moment of conception to the pain-free, drug-free perfect birth that this does not apply to you - or if you are a Singapore dancer - but some women (and no-one is EVER admitting that it may be them) thought they Kegelled at enough red lights to get a pass found that there are some moments in time - generally accompanied by a cough, a sneeze, or an attempt to jog - where you should have Kegelled stop signs and ceasared two months early just so certain muscles wouldn't get temporary amnesia at crisis moments.

So combine coughing attacks designed to leave me gasping, sleeping positions more suited to wakes, sleep deprivation without the bonus of a screaming infant AND being smited for clenching 29 times a day rather than 40. Is that picture painted clearly enough?

So what do you do when you have all these factors combining? Well, you start thinking about what other carpy aspects of your life you can grind your mind over.

• Work and money issues? Piece of cake.
• Funny way other people of the P&C look at each other during meetings? Check.
• Wearing pretty clothes marked "lingerie" to a dinner party as a child? Oh, its always good to throw into the mix.
• Twenty years of inappropriate choices in men, careers, flatmates? Oh, I know they are good to laugh at while in the mood, but so nice to use as screws in self-torture.

Heck, even god got a trot last night it was such a widely cast net!

So all up it was a happy hacking clenching wrenching writing pity party. It sucked.

Wehn I awoke this morning (because I must have drifted off between the girl screaming at her boyfriend's car out front and V rising for work) my head was pounding, my coughing attack renewed like it had never been away and I made the monumental decision that perhaps I would seek medical attention. I give up. Taking vitamins, pretending I am getting better, looking at the other medicines - its just not working.

Admitting it caused V to look at me with pity. He knows how much I cling to my pretence at stoicism.

I made my daughter treat me with extra care this morning. She gave me a special seat on her imaginary boat to take me to the doctor, where she gave me cough lollies, sat me down, made me vegemite toast (I must say she is getting better at this) and was an angel. I wish I could appreciate it more.

So - off to track down a doctor who will see me some time today. Then peg out 2 loads of washing, finish one little job, send off three invoices, go and do tuckshop paperwork (I know, but Friday is double any other day of the week in TS and noone else volunteers) (I won't point myself towards any food), go to town, pay bills, get mail, hopefully see a doctor, pack for the weekend, get gussied up, feed daughter, drop her at a friends, network at an art gallery opening (while holding my breath, I guess) dragging V, collect 'Salina, come home and I hope to goodness get a better night's sleep.