So the verdict is in. I have bronchitis. And we’re not talking nice viral bronchitis either. This is the cough all night, choke up green globs of mucus, blow your nose so hard your head ends up in next week, bacterial bronchitis. It started two weeks ago when I lost my voice. I always lose my voice by mid-November so I did not think anything of it. You tell 50 plus kids to PROJJJECCT or to BEEEE QUIIEETTT for eleven weeks and you would lose your voice too. So while I’ve probably been sick for two weeks, I wrote it off to voice exhaustion. And me being me – you know, stubborn – I started popping Halls cough drops like candy and ignored the other symptoms that were creeping up on me. You know the ones – fever, chills, coughing, aching, getting no sleep, choking up mucus. If you read my blog at all, you’ll remember that Northwest is now known as the airline that ruined Thanksgiving. As unhappy as I am that we were not in Alabama for Thanksgiving, if I were my family I’d be thrilled. Because along with the small gifts we had tucked away in our carry-on luggage, the big gift of the holiday season would be Jeri getting everyone sick. And if that happened, I’d be in huge trouble with my mom. And even though I am at that age where my mom can’t actually ground me or take my iPhone away, she can still give me that evil, silent glare, “you are in SUCH trouble, young lady” look that makes me want to throw my body on the ground and writhe around until she focuses that glare on something else. You think Jane (you know, from New Moon) has the pain thing down? Just go get in trouble with my mom. She doesn’t even have to utter a word and you’re writhing.
