I'm sick. I knew it was coming, I did. My girl came home sick over a week ago, and I just knew it was coming for me. I should have just licked her and got it over with. But no, I had to go overboard with vitamins and Airbourne and do everything in my power to fight it off. But the inevitable happened, and now I am sick. And not like sniffles and a slight cough kind of sick. I am fevered, I have razor-blade throat, I'm congested but also snotty, and I feel like my head is about to explode. Often I feel dizzy. Not the sort of thing you need one week before showtime. Plus, I have the broken back, so I now need to choose between back pain medication and degongestants. Very tough call.
I spent most of the weekend in bed (well, on the floor, actually) and I think that helped a great deal. But I still feel like a big bag of shite. So I shall finish off my hot toddy, brush my teeth, and try to sleep with my mouth open. I haven't had anymore scary phone calls or messages, so I'm thinking (hoping) that the worst is behind me. I don't really believe that, but I am hoping for it. After all, what do we have, if we don't have hope? A whole lot of nothing, that's what I think. Sweet dreams!
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