It takes an idiot to know one, they say. In my case, it took a doctor. Allow me to explain.
I'd been experiencing flu-like symptoms [or so I thought] for almost a week and a half. It got so bad tho that even my boss was like: Dude, you need to come in late tomorrow - get some sleep, damnit. Yes, it was that bad. I had to work tho, coz we have new equipment that needed to be set up and running ASAP. The ailment came second to the workload. Big mistake, coz my greatest asset is my ability to work.
The short version of this tale of woe is:
The flu persisted so I missed a couple of days of work, then went to see doc for the first time in.... well, never. She was horrified at the absence of any of my medical records. But then again, I was never ill, so I never went to see the doctor, ever. [I'm a regular Einstein, aren't I?]
She told me I had, and I quote, mild to moderate Bronchitis. [Whatever that is. All I know is that it sucks balls, big time.] After writing me some prescription, she then proceeded to scold me for not taking care of myself, then forced me to set up 2 appointments this coming week, one for bloodwork & the other for a physical. *gasp* I'm not looking forward to any of that, believe you me.
What's involved in a physical, anyhow? I hope none of it will involve any fondling or probing; that would suck. Or blow. And stink.
But it's only a couple of days after taking the prescription that I realized just how f*cked up I'd been. I feel soooo much better. Dude, it's almost like I'd been swimming in some murky, Nyquil-induced stupor only to now break the surface, gasping for air. For the first time this year I'm awake, ladies & gentlemen.
The moral of this rather self-absorbed post is that yo, be thankful for good health every God-given day. Like they say, we can't fully appreciate the sweet without experiencing the bitter, and I just got my first taste of the sour stuff.
God bless & save Kenya.