Fevah!

I got my second cold of the season about a week and a half ago, along with a fever that’s been running between 99.3 and 100.4. While the nasty part of the cold is gone—the continuous sneezing and the fully congested-can’t-breathe head—there’s a little bit still hanging on. And the fever is still there.

In fact, the fever is still so much there, that I thought something was wrong with my thermometer. I kept sticking it in my husband’s mouth to see what kind of reading he would get: 98.7, 98.6. Not a thermometer issue.

I’m guessing there’s some sort of infection hanging on somewhere, a hangover from the cold that doesn’t want to go away. Unfortunately, the uninvited houseguest has brought wacked-out numbers with it. I’ve upped my insulin intake from 34 units to 40 and I’m still waking up and going to bed with high numbers, and having all sorts of ups and downs inbetween.

I don’t really like going to the doctor for silly things like colds; I feel like I should just suck it up and ride it out and not be such a hypochondriac or a baby. But since it’s day 11 of the fever, and things don’t seem to be improving (I was 99.6 this morning), it’s time. Plus, I’d really like to eat a real meal without watching my numbers go through the roof, or not go through the roof, or do whatever the hell they want, as dictated by the fever.

My regular doctor isn’t available today, but I have an appointment with an associate at 3:30. Here’s hoping for some good antibiotics. And not feeling sweaty in the middle of the night. And not feeling really, really tired. And not being afraid to breathe around anyone. And…

As always, more to come…