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There's just one thing I really loathe about living alone--being sick. Not only is there no one to offer tea and sympathy, I have to forage for food (liquids, a fresh supply of tissues...) and deal with any other crises.
Last Wednesday's scratchy throat morphed into Lungs From Hell, accompanied by Sleeping For Vast Epochs of Time. 18-20 hours a day, the brief waking interludes were for water and potty trips; otherwise I just lay very still and tried not to provoke a fresh round of coughing. Monday was the worst; I lay down around 8:30, rolled over a few times and poof! It was Tuesday.
I'm feeling a trifle more lucid tonight--had actual solid food for the first time in days!--but of course it hasn't finished fucking with me yet: I've lost my voice.
It's always something. But hey, it could be worse, I could be in Florida, prepping for Irmageddon.
Love to all.
Last Wednesday's scratchy throat morphed into Lungs From Hell, accompanied by Sleeping For Vast Epochs of Time. 18-20 hours a day, the brief waking interludes were for water and potty trips; otherwise I just lay very still and tried not to provoke a fresh round of coughing. Monday was the worst; I lay down around 8:30, rolled over a few times and poof! It was Tuesday.
I'm feeling a trifle more lucid tonight--had actual solid food for the first time in days!--but of course it hasn't finished fucking with me yet: I've lost my voice.
It's always something. But hey, it could be worse, I could be in Florida, prepping for Irmageddon.
Love to all.