I am writing this from the couch, where I am hoping to stay for as much of the day as possible.
The glands, they are swollen, hard and painful, whether or not they are being touched.
My ear and throat hurt now, too.
I have a gross and sometimes weepy rash on my scalp, which is apparently the site of the infection that set off the lymphadenitis. I had it right before the strep throat, too, but on that occasion the person examining me showed no interest. Last night’s doctor put on purple gloves, checked it out, then sent me home with a prescription. Let this be a lesson to me to insist on more attention to the thing I believe needs attention.
I hope you are impressed that I have mixed elementary school vocabulary ("gross") with actual medical terms.
While I am grateful for antibiotics, I hate the g-i side effects. I’m just sayin’…
Bacitracin is not useful as a hair care product, but let’s hope it helps with the superficial itching.
Pop-Tarts are mouth-seeking missiles. They pop right out of the box and into the toaster, then fly straight toward a person’s mouth. It just can’t be helped.
Why are we only allowed to use warm compresses four times a day, for twenty minutes each time?
Orange Gatorade over crushed ice tastes pretty good.
The Old Man Cat is a very good companion on a sick day. He is perched on the back of the couch giving me cat scans, and he didn’t run away when the dogs came in from their walk. What a brave boy he is!
I wish I felt clever enough to do a Dr. Seuss-type poem about my ailment, because it’s Wednesday, and I would love to win a prize. But I am currently uninspired.
Pure Luck thought up the mouth-seeking missile thing, so let’s give him props.
It’s only 11 days until Christmas Eve, and I have a lot to do, and I really need to be well to do it all.
I appreciate all your healing thoughts and kind words.
At least I get to sit in the room with the Christmas Tree.
Would it be wrong of me to finish watching The Bishop’s Wife without The Princess?
Just a few things on my mind today,