Tired of hearing about my cold yet? HA! Too bad! Because I still have it, and am, if the general feeling of my body can be trusted, not even near the end of it. So there you go.
Besides the only people who are really, justifiably tired of it should be my Facebook folks - because I whined about it all week-end on Facebook - and my family. That'd be Grace. And I've been listening to her snorting and hawking things up for over a week now, so she doesn't have a vote. And Brian, who, by virtue of being my long-distance hunny, is not allowed to get tired of me in any way. It's a rule. I looked it up.
So, here we are again. The cats are beginning to adjust, now that their food dishes are adequately topped up. Jean-Luc, who used to reel in horror at the slightest scent of Vicks, has now taken it upon himself to be the cleaner-of-my hands after each application. It's a sacrifice, no doubt. But he's pretty sure I must be as disgusted by the stuff as he is, and he takes pity on me. Plus, he wants me to pet him, and I'm not touching him with those filthy hands, thank you very much. Schmitty just sleeps where ever we are. Which is usually in my bed. Grace has taken to hanging out in here with me, me on the laptop, while she flips things around on her tablet. Sometimes I email her, just because I can.
"Hi Chika, pass the kleenex?" "Hi Chik, wanna make me some tea?" "Hey Grace, up for a few episodes of Bewitched?"
She looks at me with the patronizing patience of a young adult to a old parent and says, "Mom, I'm right beside you."
Cracks me up every time.
To be honest, I am getting tired of this. I feel achy and fatigued and my head hurts. The reason I have so much fun with the cold thing, though, is because it is so normal. Everybody can relate. Even now, people all across our valley are sniffling and sneezing along with me, sharing the same experiences, the same frustrations, the same sense of gratitude to the local IGA for putting 6-packs of facial tissues on sale a few weeks ago. By the way, we seemed to have worked our way through all 6 boxes. I've been reduced to carrying a roll of toilet paper around with me, although if I had the energy to look, I'm fairly sure 3 or 4 of them could most likely be found in Grace's room. But who's up to going in THERE? Not me!
I digress. Yes, having a cold is normal. And it gets better. Having had the unsettling experience of being told years ago that a horrid illness that would vanquish my innards is chronic and not fixable, I get a little thrill of joy whenever I get something that will actually go away. Like I've accomplished something. Won a victory. Defeated an enemy.
I'm not doing the happy victory dance yet, though. Things are starting to really hurt now. It hurts to cough, which I can't stop doing. Sneezing hurts. Rolling my eyes around in my head hurts. And self-pity has poked her head in the door and asked if I'm ready for her yet. I yawned and told her, not yet. Maybe after nap time. Or maybe at supper time when we tuck into the third box of Kraft Dinner this week-end - they were on sale at the IGA on Friday and I stocked up...it's like they KNEW the entire town was going to be bed-ridden this week!
In any case, one day I will look back at these posts with fond nostalgia. Remember that time I got sick and then GOT BETTER?! *happy sigh* Good times, those....
Just a thought.
Something Wonderful I Found In Romans
2 years ago
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