Blame Game

For 2 weeks I thought I was successfully battling allergies and sinus congestion.  But ... um ... I failed.  Yes, I am sick, and not just in the brain.  I tried to blame the Munchkins, but seriously, who wants to willing hold those adorable 3 year old faces accountable for my weakened immune system?  Not me!!  I tried to blame the volleyball girls, but I honestly haven't been around them consistently enough for them to have caused this. I tried to blame Houdini for bringing his 5th graders germs into my house, but that guy needs a break, so I'll find something else for which to blame him when the timing is better ... it's what sister's do for their little brothers.  I've also tried blaming the Fun Folk, my Porno (hat) Dealer, my dog, the Broncos losing, and my ColoAngel.  The sad but true fact is that I am to blame this time.  It is my fault, and mine alone.  I am sick, and I have no one to beat up but myself ... <sigh> ... dammit!!

A couple of weeks ago I noticed a draft emanating from the window above my bed ... and I did nothing about it except turn my electric mattress pad up to 7 from it's usual nighttime standard of 4.  It did not occur to me, at the time, that that slight of a draft would be a problem.  Well played, Karma.  Well played.

So now that the window is sealed up with towels and plastic shrink-wrap stuff, I sit here, coughing ... and coughing ... and blowing my nose ... and coughing.  The thing about my coughs this time are that every time I have a fit, my sweat glands open up like Niagara Falls, I see a parade of Tweety Birds behind my eyelids, and my tender gag reflex (thanks to all of the nausea lately) is bringing up the stuff that is supposed to be making me better ... and my coffee!!  Thanks to my fever breaking last night, I'm washing all of my bedding today and I have a feeling that's going to use up my spoon supply for the day.  The trash that needs to go out, the dishes that are multiplying like rabbits in my sink (mostly cups and glasses, but I really am trying to eat too), and the dog hair that is coating my couch and carpets will just have to wait another day ... or 2.  I'm not complaining, I'm just saying!!  It's my fault, I'll begrudgingly get to it when I have the energy/spoons.

As for the rest of the day, I will continue to sip on my orange juice and hot tea, suck on Hall's Defense lozenges, take a chance on downing some cough pearls and a nausea pill, hopefully be able to stomach some of the homemade soup that Mom brought over yesterday, increase my K-Spray pumpage to 2 pumps every hour (as per the doc's instructions ... and as opposed to my regular 2 pumps every 2 hours), and refrain from exiting my bubble until, at least, Wednesday.  (Today's high in Longmont is supposed to be 10 ... mid 40's by Wed.)  The cold makes the pain worse ... being sick makes the pain worse ... stressing out makes the pain worse.  There is only one of those that I control right now, so I'll keep refusing to stress about it and just play Suck It Up and Deal.

I have faith that I will kick this cold before it has a chance to turn into a full blown upper respiratory infection.  I have faith that, regardless of my health, I will maintain a pleasant disposition so that I may continue to find the strength to fight.  And of course, I have faith that I will place the blame where it's due, on myself, and kick my own ass when I'm feeling better!!

(On a sad and personal note, 37 years ago today, my younger brother, The Angel, succumbed to the flu.  He was two days shy of being 10 months old.  I was 6, about to be 7.  Every year, on his birthday and on the day of his passing, I write him a note.  If two siblings were ever soul mates, he was mine.  Here is a condensed version of today's note:  "37 years ago today you became my Guardian Angel.  Since then, not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of you, shed a tear for you, and smiled because of you.  You may have only graced us with your physical presence for less than 10 months, but I feel your tiny hands on my heart every single day.")