On the floor

We are in recovery at this house. Ann is now sick with the bug I've had for over three weeks, though I don't think she'll end up on medication. I broke down and popped the antibiotics yesterday after an early morning shift at work. I was desperate and I needed to try something, anything to feel more myself so in addition to the Neti Pot, a million supplements, any over the counter medication I could think of, and gallons of fluids, I started the course of antibiotics.

I'm not sure which of the many combinations worked, but something is working. I feel better and even now, 15 minutes after getting up this morning I have yet to have a coughing fit. That's big. No, that's huge. Especially after yesterday.

Yesterday I was asked to come in early, earlier than the store actually opens to be trained for my "official" job -- a clerk behind the optics counter. From all my previous general training days -- learning to fit backpacks, understanding the differences in sleeping bags and tents, practicing with the camp stoves -- I've learned that optics is perhaps the toughest job on the floor.

Great.

What makes it tough is that there are a bazillion items in our department. Everything from map sheets to fishing knives to GPS systems to sunglasses to watch batteries to tripods -- it's an endless stream of outdoor knick-knacks. It took Steve, my trainer, over an hour to go through the various GPS systems and another half hour to explain binoculars. While I know how binoculars work, even Steve admits that he only knows what the GPS systems do, not the details of how each one works. Not only do I have to learn about each piece of merchandise in the department, but I have to figure out where it can be found once someone wants to purchase it and the finding can be daunting.

And then there are the endless stream of customers. I got to watch Steve work for an hour and in that hour 11 customers came to the counter some with minor needs -- a battery for a certain watch -- and others with very detailed and specific needs -- one guy wanted a lesson on how to use his GPS (luckily we can't get reception in the department so he was referred to tech help after much discussion) and a woman holding her year old baby wanted to purchase some binoculars, but only after a lengthy discussion about the differences between the 30 kinds displayed.

I am not looking forward to my 8 hour shift on Tuesday. Luckily, someone will be there with me, but this is going to take awhile and I'm certain I'm going to piss off more than one customer with my ineptness.

The early shift was a challenge not only because I was still learning, but also because I was still coughing. I've felt self conscious about it during every training. The trainer will be with us out on the floor showing us how to use the torso measurer for backpacks and I'll start coughing. I 'd popped a bag of cough drops into my mouth like a chain-smoker of lozenges, but to no avail. Other times I'd have to remove myself from the training and just find a corner where I could hack away and make a hurried attempt to catch my breath.

Yesterday morning, right before the store opened, everyone on the floor met in a "morning huddle" to hear from the store manager about all sorts of store details. As she gave her speech, I felt a ripple at the back of my throat, like feathers and gravel, and I knew I was about to cough uncontrollably. I held it long enough to worm my way around displays and hide behind a wall of cash registers, but that didn't mean people didn't hear me. In fact, in the middle of my attack, 3 separate people came over to see if I needed help (3 women...never men...why is that?). Some offered me water, some offered to pat my back, some just stood next to me looking worried.

I could not talk. I could only cough and at one point, I coughed so hard I thought for sure I was going to vomit. This lasted for a good 5 minutes followed by another 10 minutes of sporadic coughing. By this time I found a bench at the back of the store and sat myself down practicing any meditation tools I could think of to get a grip. By the time the morning huddle was complete, my coughing fit was done though I was worn out beyond belief.

And I still had an hour left on the floor.

When I got home I took one of the large pills the doctor had prescribed and gave in to the fact that perhaps antibiotics were the only thing that would touch whatever was wrecking havoc in my sinuses. I slept on the couch for two hours, my cheeks flushing as the temperature of the day pushed 90 degrees. I watched Olympic coverage and woke up to Days of Our Lives.

And when I woke, I felt amazingly better. Not 100%, but better. I was not dying. By the time evening rolled around, I had had minimal coughing fits and I could actually hear out of both of my ears. My head didn't feel as clogged and the waterfall of slime that had cascaded down the back of my throat was merely a trickle.

I took another dose of antibiotics before I went to bed.

I slept well though the heat made it difficult to fall asleep. Still there is improvement and there is something to be said about improvement.