An American in Provence

Went to work yesterday and spent the day annoying my coworkers with my constant hacking. It was one of those days where if you are at work you feel sick enough to just want to be home and in bed, and if you are at home and in bed you feel well to feel guilty about not being at work.
I got home and took a hot shower, as hot as I could stand it. I wanted to vaporize my lungs. Not vaporize like Star Trek, just vapor-ize. Not sure it helped or not. When the frenchman got home, he said "you must have a fever, take your temperature." I told him I had just taken a hot shower, but he made me take my temperature anyway. It was 38.8. That's not a fever! I informed him. Oh yeah? The average body temperature in Celcius is 37. Oh. Whoops. I took my temperature on Monday, I can't remember what it read, either 36 or 38, so I might have had a fever since Monday. Which probably would have been useful information for the doctor to know. Guess I skipped the chapter on Temperatures in the book "Welcome to the Metric System: living and loving it" by Knott Reelly.
Spent the rest of the evening sweating it out under heavy clothes and a blanket, and spent all night tossing, turning, and drooling on my pillow due to the inability to breathe through my nose. I never used to be a drooler before moving to France. I have a system- flip pillow, rotate pillow, that I do in my half-sleep during the entire night. This ensures that when one area becomes too warm for my cheek and too wet, I have a nice cool dry area to begin again on. When the entire pillow is used up, well, then I just migrate over onto the Frenchman's.
Woke up this morning when my alarm went off at 6 am. Took my temperature, it was again 38.7 (over 101 F). Decided, nah. I'm not going to work.
This afternoon I have to go over to another doctor's to get another sick note to take into work tomorrow- my last day!!! Also will explain this fever thing. Perhaps it is the flu? Gosh I hope not. I had better be alright by next Monday.