Days Like These (female, allergies)

[Chanel_no5]

***Note***

Did a prompt fic on tumblr, and I was really in allergy mood so it got away from me a little, lol. The person giving me the prompt wanted it to be work-related, so that's mainly what I went with, but a little bit with Linda towards the end. 

There's a little bit of mess, very harsh sneezes, some coughing and throat issues. Also cw: medical stuff, since she's a doctor and she's at work.  

Prompts: 🎋itchy nose/throat/ears + 🧻 tissues

 

Usually, Dr Savannah Thompson’s allergies manifested as itchy, runny, stuffy nose and intense sneezing fits, and watery, irritated eyes. On particularly bad allergy days, however, her throat and the roof of her mouth itched every bit as much as her nose.

And then there were days like these. Days when everything itched like mad. Her nose. Her eyes. Her throat. Her soft palate. Her ears. Even her skin was affected today, with hives blooming on her upper chest and the side of her neck. She knew better than to scratch… but she couldn’t help herself. She knew better than to rub her burning eyes and prickling nose too, but she couldn’t help herself in that aspect either.

She was even losing her voice thanks to the pollen completely overpowering her allergic body, and it even felt like her very lungs itched. She didn’t have asthma, and she didn’t feel like she couldn’t breathe – except when the sneezing fits were so strong and the sneezes came so close she couldn’t get a breath in between them, but that was different – but the itch! The bloody itch just felt like it was wriggling itself down her windpipe and deep into her lungs.

She had been alright this morning, not fantastic but not so bad it gave an indication that she’d feel like this after lunch, but she assumed the Benadryl she’d taken right before bed last night hadn’t worn off by the time she woke up and got ready for work.

It had absolutely worn off now, she felt like she was completely unprotected against all the forces of nature attacking her at once. It was only spring, of course, the only thing nature did was making love and creating life. Oh, and turning a certain doctor into a drippy, itchy, desperate mess. Because even though she was so itchy right now that she wanted to chop off her own head, she couldn’t sneeze. It was as if the need to sneeze was so great that her body had deadlocked and was unable to carry out the action.

She scrubbed her nose with the cuff of her lab coat, a waterlogged groan rising from her itchy throat. God, she needed to sneeze.

Maybe it was just as well she didn't, because she had a feeling that once she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop for a foreseeable future, and she had to go the post-op rounds. Thank God her hayfever had been calm yesterday, when she had four surgeries scheduled, today was mostly paperwork and checking on patients.

She took a Kleenex from the box on her desk, blew her nose – she was so congested it felt like trying to move half-dried cement – then took several fresh ones and stuffed them into the pockets of her lab coat before leaving her office and heading down the corridor.

***

The first patient was sitting up in bed, finishing his lunch when Savannah came into his room, carrying a chart.

“Hello,” she said. Well. Tried to say, at least. It was more like a shaky croaking. She cleared her throat and tried again, only sounding marginally better. Her throat felt like it was coated in dusty pollen.

“Hello,” the patient replied and finished his glass of milk, which Savannah suddenly felt a wave of desire to. Oh, to drink something cool to soothe the awful, burning itch…

She promised herself that she’d buy a soda from the vending machine as soon as she was done with the rounds. A carbonated drink might scratch that itch a little.

“How are you feeling today?”

The patient had barely looked up from his lunch, but now he did. And did a double take. Savannah wasn’t sure if it was the way she looked or the way she sounded that had thrown the young man off, or maybe it was a combination, but he actually stared at the doctor.

“Better than you sound, doctor, that sounds like a bad cold.”

“It’s not…” Savannah began, but her voice cracked. She cleared her throat, then had to cough against the back of her hand, before she could make a new attempt. “… not a cold,” she said, putting the chart down on the bedside table.

“Sure could’ve fooled me, you look like shit, ” the patient said, and Savannah realised that he was high on pain relief. That tended to make them blurt out whatever thought entered their head, and she normally didn’t get offended if patients called her things, but this made her embarrassed. She was supposed to be the doctor, the healer, and it was ridiculous to show symptoms of anything when you were the one wearing the white coat.

“Not that I’m here to discuss my own health,” Savannah said, and the sharpness of the words was softened by an easy-going smile, “but it’s hayfever, not a cold. I can assure you, you’re at no risk of catching anything from me.” She cleared her throat again – God, it really felt like dry powder, itching powder to be specific, was coating her vocal cords – and poured some hand sanitizer into her hands and rubbed it in before reaching for the sterile gloves.

Her nose was itching like crazy – not that it ever stopped itching this time of year – and in sheer desperation she leaned into herself and rubbed it against her own shoulder. Thankfully she had her back to the patient when she did, so it wasn’t as obvious what she was doing. And either way, the young man seemed to have lost interest in his raspy-voiced, drippy-nosed doctor already.

Savannah turned back to him with a soft sniffle.

“Okay,” she said, “if you turn on your side facing the wall, I’m going to check the wound.”

The patient did as he was told, groaning a little as moving pulled at the stitches.

“How does it feel?” she asked as she gently removed the bandage to look at the surgical wound.

“Ugh, like I’ve been cut open with a rusty breadknife,” the patient grunted, and Savannah chuckled, then turned her face into her shoulder again to stifle a cough before she replied.

“You’re partially right; but it was a scalpel and it wasn’t rusty.”

She pressed her fingertips against the area surrounding the stitches, which was bruised and swollen but showed no signs of infection.

“It looks good,” she said and put the bandages back.

“I’m sure it does,” the patient said as he painstakingly manoeuvred himself back to a sitting position, “about as good as a hobby boxer would look going ten rounds against Tyson.”

Savannah helped him adjust the pillow that supported him before straightening up and removing her gloves.

“In all fairness, I don’t think they use scalpels in boxing,” she said.

“Fair enough, Doc,” he said. “I’m just glad to be rid of that goddamn tumor. I heard it had hair and teeth and stuff. That’s weird as hell, isn’t it?”

“It's called a teratoma, and it occurs when one twin is absorbed into the other early in pregnancy. They actually aren’t that uncommon, but we mostly see them during post-mortem exams.”

He gave her a blank look.

“They don’t usually cause problems, so most people who have them live their entire lives unaware,” she clarified, feeling how dangerously close her voice was to giving out altogether, and how the prickle in her nose seemed to intensify again. It was deep into her sinuses too, like a wildfire consuming everything in its path.

She needed to sneeze so badly.

“Guess I was unlucky that mine did cause problems, then,” he sighed.

“Well, sometimes siblings can’t keep from messing with you,” she joked and he chuckled.

“You’re going to heal up in no time, just try to be as still as you can the first couple of days so you don’t tear the stitches,” she continued and scribbled some notes into the chart, in that typical indecipherable doctor’s handwriting that she had to admit she had problems reading herself sometimes.

By now, her nose was aching with the urge to sneeze.  She jotted down her signature on the chart and managed a smile at the patient before she turned and left the room, shoving a hand into her pocket as she walked, pulling out several crumpled but clean tissues and clasping the whole handful over her mouth and nose.

She made it two steps down the corridor before she couldn’t hold it in anymore, and a rough, throaty double-sneeze violently exited her allergic airways, using her vocal cords as a scratching board on its way out.

“HAH-ARRGSSCHH!-ARRSSSCHHuhh! Oh God…”

She nearly collided with a nurse, who managed to jump aside at the last moment.

“Whoa, bless you Dr Thompson!” she said, but Savannah had already passed her, fighting her itchy nose over how many times it was allowed to do this, as well as how loudly. She hated when she couldn’t keep her sneezes quiet in public. She prided herself on being ladylike and proper and in full control, and then allergy season hit and she was none of it.

A convulsive third sneeze tumbled out of her and roared into the tissues. Tears spilled over and trickled down her cheeks, ruining what little eye makeup still lingered around her red-rimmed eyes and her fluttering lashes. Strands of her beautiful coppery-red hair loosened from the messy bun it was tied into and got in her face, sticking to the tear-wet trails on her cheeks.

“Haah-EEHHEW!”

That sneeze was so throaty it sounded almost completely dry, and it hurt all the way.

She ducked into the ladies’ room and was horrified by the allergic, drippy, red-nosed mess of a woman staring back at her in the mirror. After giving in to two more harsh, scraping sneezes that she was utterly unable to control, she blew her nose as forcefully as she dared, fearing she’d set off a chain reaction and sneeze nonstop for hours if she aggravated her sensitive mucus membranes too much.

It didn’t clear her sinuses at all, and somehow it made the itch in her ears worse, but at least she thought she wouldn’t be dripping with watery mess for a little bit. But perhaps that was a vain hope. Either way, she still had work to do, so she washed and dried her hands, then gave herself a brave yet somehow hopeless little smile in the mirror, and went to check on her second patient.

***

Mrs Callahan was a lovely elderly lady with a severely deformed hand, that Savannah had given back more mobility than anyone ever thought possible. Including Savannah, in fact, who was proud of her work – of course – but secretly as surprised as everyone else how incredibly well it had gone.

Mrs Callahan was sweet and gentle, but sharp-eyed, and when Savannah entered she shook her head.

“Dr Thompson, you look unwell. Should you be working today?”

Her voice held genuine concern.

“I’m fine,” Savannah tried to lie, but realised that she had completely lost her voice. And that on top of the congestion, which was brick wall-thick in the back of her nose and throughout her sinuses. All that came out was a wavery wheeze. She cleared her throat. Coughed. Coughed harder and cleared her throat again.

“It’s only hayfever.”

A thick whisper now. Oh this was just ridiculous!

“Dear girl, hayfever or cold doesn’t matter, you sound awful and you clearly feel awful. You should be home in bed, not working.”

Savannah supposed that at forty-one, she was still a girl in the eyes of an 80-year-old, even if she had a medical degree and a mortgage. Besides, the genuine concern was sweet, if not necessary.

Yes I probably should, Savannah thought tiredly. But that’s just not in the cards at the moment. Can’t just use up all my sick days on bad hayfever days.

She absentmindedly scratched at the rash on her slender neck before steeling herself to do her job. This time she didn’t trust her nose to be calm, so she donned a mask.

“Do you need that if it’s just hayfever?” the woman asked. “I didn’t think it was contagious.”

“It’s not,” Savannah managed, wincing.

“Then why the mask?”

Savannah was blushing fiercely now, so she was grateful for the mask for more than one reason.

“Because I might sneeze, and I’d rather not get you with it, if it comes on too fast. I don’t think you’d appreciate that. I know I wouldn’t.”

It felt strange to lose your voice when your throat wasn’t sore, just itchy. It had happened to her before, albeit not too often, most of the time when her allergies were acting up the only thing they did to her voice was making it heavily congested, and sometimes a little bit raspy. This was a characteristic of an exceptionally bad allergy day, if she didn’t already know that.

Blinking away a set of fresh, hot allergic tears, she sanitized her hands again, put on clean gloves, and sat down in the chair next to the patient’s bed.

“Hold up your hand like this,” she said, showing with her own. Mrs Callahan did. “And now try to do this. Gently. If it hurts, don’t push it.”

She sniffled, or maybe snorted was more accurate, and cringed at the sound.

“You really do sound like you should be home,” Mrs Callahan insisted.

“I sound worse than I feel,” Savannah assured her – a flat out lie – and took the other woman’s hand between both hers. “Now flex.”

The elderly woman did her best, and that was far better than it had been, but it would never be fully mobile again. Still, the improvement was beyond what Savannah could have hoped for.

“Tomorrow, I’ll…” she began, and then the urge to sneeze hit her so hard she only had enough time to let go of Mrs Callahan’s hand so she wouldn’t accidentally squeeze it and hurt the old lady.

“NNNGT! NNKThh! uhh… aaahNKTshkk!”

“Oh dear… bless you, doctor!”

“Thank you, I’m so sorry,” Savannah croaked.

“Nonsense, you did warn me. You shouldn’t hold them in like that, though.”

Savannah got this all the time when she stifled. From colleagues, mostly, but Linda did it too, even though Savannah rarely stifled around her anymore. Sometimes, like now, patients commented on it as well. And she knew she shouldn’t stifle, but it was less embarrassing than those loud, wet or even messy sneezes that her body preferred to produce. And there was another reason too; she was wearing a mask right now, and if she was at all able to stifle her sneezes, she would while masked. Because otherwise it was like sneezing herself in the face, with the ricochet effect. Masks contained the germs and the mess on her person so she wouldn't end up exposing patients or sterile surfaces to it, but she would end up with a faceful of mucus that she couldn’t clean up until she could remove her mask, and that wasn’t overly appealing. She wasn’t going to point that out to the patient. She felt repulsive enough as it was.

Rather than commenting on Mrs Callahan’s opinion, she just continued where the sneezes had interrupted:

“Tomorrow I’ll have a physical therapist come in and see you. Keep doing this…” she showed with her own hand, “but don’t push on when it hurts. Ligaments are still healing, you want to keep them flexible but not overexercise them.”

The fact that the other woman could hear her, given how broken her voice was at the moment and now also slightly muffled behind the mask, was astonishing.

“Thank you, doctor.”

Savannah had gotten up and made the notes in the chart, feeling her nose beginning to drip down her upper lip. She tried to sniffle, but her nose was simultaneously blocked. The itch flared up full force at this sniffle attempt, however, and her whole body rocked as she suddenly barked out a harsh sneeze with more vocals than she could muster when speaking.

“AaaRRSSCHHoo!”

Mrs Callahan chuckled.

“Bless you! That sounded more relieving.”

Savannah wished she could agree, but during spring, there was no real relief for her to hope for.

***

After the rounds were done, she made good on her promise to herself and went to the break room to get a soda from the vending machine.

Two bleary-eyed nurses – the ‘double shift-look’ if ever she’d seen it – were sitting at one of the tables with coffee mugs.

“Allergy season?” one of them asked. Savannah sighed and pushed a coin into the slot.

“That obvious before I even speak?”

“Sorry, doctor.”

“No need, it’s true,” Savannah said and pressed the Coke button. Not her favourite soft drink, but she could use the caffeine. She took the can, wanted to open it and take a deep gulp right away but she didn’t want to be seen drinking straight from a can. Maybe it was silly, but she was viewed as a classy woman, she saw herself as a classy woman, and she was dishevelled as it was already. No need to add to it.

She just took the can and left the break room, trying to scratch the roof of her mouth with her tongue as she walked. It was insane how some innocent tree pollen could make her suffer like this.

The need to sneeze flared up again, and she took out the remaining tissue from her pocket and sneezed harshly into it several times without slowing down. Each sneeze itched even as it burst out of her, making her sinuses feel even more tingly and raw. Her eyes streamed.

Once back in her office, she quickly opened the Coke can and drank deeply, the cool liquid feeling wonderful against her prickly throat, and the small, sharp bubbles did scratch at the itch, but she hadn’t anticipated that this would further aggravate things. She had barely managed to swallow when a violent sneeze attack erupted from her. At least she wasn’t spitting Coca Cola all around her, but the sneezes were desperate, hard, and uncovered. The tissue was useless and forgotten in her left hand while she surrendered to her pollen-tortured body’s demands, but these sneezes were largely dry, painful and loud and nearly barking, so throaty there was very little spray. And her nose was completely blocked, all that came out was that steady watery trickle, but it had no force behind it, it just trickled out calmly as if it had every right to do so.

When the fit was over, she was exhausted and dizzy, and fell rather than sat down in her chair by her desk.

“Oh by God,” she exhaled and coughed, then took her glasses off and rubbed both eyes with both hand, furiously, knowing how stupid it was, knowing how much worse it would get, but unable to stop herself. She cleared her throat with a watery sound followed by a very thick sniffle-snort. She rubbed her nose furiously, then went back to rubbing her eyes again, as her breath hitched.

“HuuRRRSSCHHUH! RAH-ESSCCHHOO! Oww… huhhgNTSCHK-TSSCHEW-snrrrkk-geyyhhERRSCHHHoo! Oh for heaven’s sake… snrrrkkk! Ugh, what the fuck is this…?!”

Savannah rarely used the f-word, but the occasion called for it. Oh yes, did it ever. She buried her leaky face into her hands and rested her elbows on her desk, breathing through her mouth and trying to suppress a combination of a cough and a sneeze, her body still trying to expel pollen that she couldn’t possibly still have inside her airways after all the sneezing and coughing she’d already done.

The phone on her desk rang, and at first she wasn’t going to pick up; she could hardly speak anyway, so what was the point? But it kept ringing, so it was either life-or-death important or it was Linda. The very hope of hearing Linda’s voice was enough, so she reached for the phone and picked it up.

“Dr Thompson,” she rasped.

There was a moment of shocked silence.

“Annie?”

Linda. Savannah closed her burning eyes in relief.

“Hi hodey,” she said, rubbing her quivering nostrils with her knuckles and realised her mistake too late. Her breath hitched. “S-sorry, I have to sdeeze… ahh… ahhh-EEHHEW! Aaah-EEEHHHUHH! AH-EHHRGGSCHHguh!... snrrrf… snrrrkkk! ‘scuse be, ugh, I’b so disgusting.”

“You sound horrible,” Linda said, sounding concerned. “Were you hiding that from me this morning?”

“Doh,” Savannah snuffled and wiped mess from her red-hot nostrils with the crumpled tissue. “I was fairly okay this bordig. I think the Bedadryl wore off just as the polled count spiked. HuhhRGSCHUH! God, I’b so sorry.”

“Stop apologising, you can’t help it,” Linda sighed. “My poor baby… when are you coming home?”

“Early,” Savannah coughed. “I feel awful. Everything itches so buch it's driving be crazy.”

“Come home right away. I got the afternoon off today, I’m home and I’m going to take good care of you.”

“I have to wait for sobe lab results to be done before I cad leave.”

She could hear the pout in Linda’s voice.

“How long will that take?”

“Ode hour, baybe a bit less if I’b lucky. Ugh, sorry, I have to blow by dose, I’b dripping everywhere…”

She took a clean tissue and gave her anguished nose a one-handed blow, trying not to be too loud and gross her wife out too much.

“Okay, come home as soon as you can, babycakes,” Linda said. “The Benadryl is calling.”

“I’m looking forward to being reunited with it,” Savannah said. “And you, of course.”

“Oooh, I’m flattered to come second to allergy relief,” Linda chuckled, but before Savannah could reply she added; “I know what you mean, don’t sweat it.”

“I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“Drive safe,” Linda said softly. “I love you.”

“I… hahEERSCHHoo-eehrrscchhahh!!-snrrff! Sorry… I love you too.”

 

 

[webmeistro]

This is so naughty :)

[Chanel_no5]

13 hours ago, webmeistro said:

This is so naughty :)

Hehe, I'm glad you think so!   The poor woman, just trying to get through her day at work...  

 

[SleepingPhlox]

Another absolute masterpiece! I love it when you bring these characters out to play.

Also, I didn't entirely realise how hot the phrase "Bless you, doctor" could be until now, but man that one jumped off the screen and hit me right in the brain.

[sickfic_lover]

Ugh!! I'm always kicking my feet when I see you posting 😆!! I have no words, just like... perfection ❤️

[Chanel_no5]

On 5/4/2024 at 11:36 AM, SleepingPhlox said:

Another absolute masterpiece! I love it when you bring these characters out to play.

Also, I didn't entirely realise how hot the phrase "Bless you, doctor" could be until now, but man that one jumped off the screen and hit me right in the brain.

Thank you, m'dear!   Hehe, I'm glad, because I love playing with them!   

Oh my God YES, that phrase is so hot it drives me insane!! I mean, all titles are hot when they come after a "bless you", but, like... a doctor is "supposed" to be the healthy one, and NOT show symptoms consistent with illness...  

On 5/4/2024 at 3:13 PM, sickfic_lover said:

Ugh!! I'm always kicking my feet when I see you posting 😆!! I have no words, just like... perfection ❤️

Aww, thank you!!  I'm so glad you enjoy my silly little character torment sessions.