The Flu

By the time I'd braved an unusually busy morning on the metro (probably because of the bad weather), and the walk to the office, I started to feel awful again. The company doctor was due to arrive in the afternoon, so I decided to hang in there and save myself from boredom.

Honestly, it was better than going to my own doctor, where I would have spent four hours reading magazines for the house-wife demographic that are three years out of date in a cold waiting room that echoes every single cough and sniffle with acrimony.

The company doctor took one look at me and told me to go home, writing me a long and unintelligible scribble to take to my local pharmacy. Not only do I have the flu, but my recurring throat infection has returned, which was already about a month overdue based on its usual schedule.

Normally, I hate medication. If I get sick, I prefer to take it easy and ride it out. What doesn't kill me, makes me stronger. I have this strong belief that too many people take the easy way out with antibiotics these days, and the more we use them the closer we'll come to the next pandemic. Unfortunately, history dictates that we're overdue for one.

So here I am, with the all too familiar Ketek (telithromycin) for my throat, along with some scary effervescent paracetamol tablets and Cotrane (dimethoxanati hydrochloridum) for the flu.

I always research my medication, but for some reason the Cotrane doesn't return many results on Google as I would have expected. It turns out, though, that with the exception of the throat medication, the flu medication is essentially there just for comfort.

So here I am at home, catching up on the piles of DVDs "in the queue" so to speak, trying to ignore the occasional excessive doof-doof from upstairs (bastards), and trying to fight my fuzzy brain.

*sniffle*