What a week it’s been. Who knew a little Spring head cold would take me down? But it did. It all started a week ago Friday when I could not get warm, and was shivering as I went to bed. I bundled up, rolled myself into a ball, and tried to sleep. The next day I felt much better, but then Sunday I worked—we had an annual Mother’s Day event in town and I offered to be there—and I was feeling the cold again; but I hate being that whiny bitch who volunteers to help and then plays the suddenly sick card to get out of it, so I soldiered on, and on through part of the day Monday until I could no longer deal with the sore throat and the cough and the phlegm and the headache, and went home early.
I took off Tuesday and slept most of the day, and spoke with my doctor after Carlos asked if it was COVID; my doctor assured me it was my first head cold in two-plus years of masking and social distancing and it hit me hard. I felt better, while feeling worse, that it was “just” a cold. Still, while I trust the doc, I did take two rapid COVID tests and was negative in mood and attitude and COVID. I took Wednesday off, and then was still sick Thursday. Friday’s I don’t work, so I was bed-ridden again, and then finally today I began feeling human once more.
I kept thinking of an old Mary Tyler Moore episode where she got a bad cold before a special event, and kept muttering that the head cold was “three days coming, three days with you, and three days going.” I just finished my third day going and am finally feeling like my old self.
Thanks for all the positive thoughts and advice and jokes … Yorkshire, who chided me for not so much standing with Ukraine, but lying down for it.