Warning: boring post about being sick ahead. I warned you this blog would be boring.
It all started innocent enough on Wednesday. I had a tickle and a small cough all day but it never got worse. Then the alarm went off thrusday morning. I instantly knew something was not right in wonky land. My throat was killing me, my cough was worse, and my head felt stuffed with fluid. Worst of all I was the most tired I think I have ever felt. I quickly texted the boss I would not be in and crawled back into bed. I did not leave it until after noon.
I stumbled around in a haze for a few hours and managed to make a lunch. About three o'clock I could not keep my eyes open. Yep I had been up for almost a total of three hours. I took a shower hoping the hot water would kill of the vile body invaders and climbed into my warm bed. After a couple of hours of added rest I felt a little better. I ventured forth for sustenance and a run to the pharmacy for drugs and immune system boosters.
With a supply of echinacea, zinc, vitamin C and D, as well as Nyquil and cough drops, I settled down to fight the good fight. I went to bed at the unheard of time of ten thirty.I woke up hours later still not feeling very well. Remember my plans for this weekend were to head up to Chicago to see my Dad and my friend. Well I couldn't be sick and see my dad so I knew I needed to do everything I could to get better. So it was another day of plenty of fluids and rest. I hoped a nice long Friday night sleep would finally bring relief.
Not to be. I had the worst night sleep of my life up to that point. I tossed an turned, coughed and sneezed and got almost no sleep. I finally stumbled from my bed ten hours after laying down feeling miserable. After a nap later in the day I checked my temp 101. A couple of aspirin and by the time I went to bed it seemed to be gone. Perhaps Saturday night would be the night I would get a long sleep and beat this.
You guessed. There was a reason I had said Friday night was the worst night of sleep up to that point. Saturday was even worse. I hardly slept at all. I am writing this Sunday morning on St. Patrick's day, which I will be celebrating by lying around watching premier league and the F1 race.
It all started innocent enough on Wednesday. I had a tickle and a small cough all day but it never got worse. Then the alarm went off thrusday morning. I instantly knew something was not right in wonky land. My throat was killing me, my cough was worse, and my head felt stuffed with fluid. Worst of all I was the most tired I think I have ever felt. I quickly texted the boss I would not be in and crawled back into bed. I did not leave it until after noon.
I stumbled around in a haze for a few hours and managed to make a lunch. About three o'clock I could not keep my eyes open. Yep I had been up for almost a total of three hours. I took a shower hoping the hot water would kill of the vile body invaders and climbed into my warm bed. After a couple of hours of added rest I felt a little better. I ventured forth for sustenance and a run to the pharmacy for drugs and immune system boosters.
With a supply of echinacea, zinc, vitamin C and D, as well as Nyquil and cough drops, I settled down to fight the good fight. I went to bed at the unheard of time of ten thirty.I woke up hours later still not feeling very well. Remember my plans for this weekend were to head up to Chicago to see my Dad and my friend. Well I couldn't be sick and see my dad so I knew I needed to do everything I could to get better. So it was another day of plenty of fluids and rest. I hoped a nice long Friday night sleep would finally bring relief.
Not to be. I had the worst night sleep of my life up to that point. I tossed an turned, coughed and sneezed and got almost no sleep. I finally stumbled from my bed ten hours after laying down feeling miserable. After a nap later in the day I checked my temp 101. A couple of aspirin and by the time I went to bed it seemed to be gone. Perhaps Saturday night would be the night I would get a long sleep and beat this.
You guessed. There was a reason I had said Friday night was the worst night of sleep up to that point. Saturday was even worse. I hardly slept at all. I am writing this Sunday morning on St. Patrick's day, which I will be celebrating by lying around watching premier league and the F1 race.
Comments