One week and counting

I'm still sick. This sucks. My body is tricking me. I was sick as a dog all last week. Friday or Saturday I felt well enough to go out but I was tired afterward. Sunday I slept a lot but thought I had enough in me to go to a few stores to get out of the house and walk around. I swear I was going stir crazy in here. I was really tired after that, but I thought with some good sleep I'll be able to go to work. Hell, I work at one of, if not, the slowest units in the county. I could lay around and be lazy. That was my plan until 1am. I was coughing when I first laid down but it wasn't too bad. At 1am, I woke up coughing up a lung. Brian suggested I call out for today but I didn't want to. Still sick? Yes. Sick enough not to go to work? I didn't think so. I tossed and turned and coughed. And coughed. And coughed. Finally I decided to migrate downstairs to the chair. I dozed off maybe for 10 minutes or so with the cats then the hacking started again. Even Mattie wouldn't sleep with me because I was keeping her up. Baxter's a trooper and stayed by my side for hours. At 2am, I finally gave in and called out. Which now means I have to go to the doctor for a note. I was trying to avoid the doctor. Brian reminded me I do this every time. I get sick, start to get better, the coughing starts and then the doctors visit with some prescriptions and a note saying I have bronchitis or an upper respiratory infection. Ugh. It's like a challenge or something to me. I think I will get better without a doctor until my body sucker punches me and says, "take that, tough guy." Soon I'm just another hacking person sitting in a waiting room. I really think my body and I should go to a mediation session or something...you know, to figure something else out instead of the sucker punches.