The end of the rope is nigh now that almost a week has passed and the sickness has evolved as such (and for those of you who don't care, please skip this post):
1. Slight tickle in the throat on the plane + no sleep + massive cold sore = the ominous beginning. When we exited the plane last Saturday at 5 AM Toronto time, my RRHB said: "WHAT is that?" This was followed by a look that can only be described as disgust.
2. Needle on Saturday AM + no sleep = feeling like I've been run over by the kind of truck that evens out pavement. Coughing, coughing, coughing, coughing, rinse, repeat.
3. Good night's sleep + good book + my own bed = waking up Sunday morning feeling refreshed, renewed and actually better. Go visiting, go grocery shopping, do all the laundry. See, I'm better!
4. Coughing + coughing (see above) - good night's sleep + 250+ emails = feeling worse on Monday morning and call in sick to school. Manage to make it through a whole day's work but walk home from the bus stop with legs so wobbly I am afraid I won't actually cross the threshold of our house.
5. See #4 + a fever - any sleep = sleeping in and heading to work late, but feeling actually well enough to make it through the rest of the day and attend every meeting I actually had so far in the week. But have possibly infected entire office. Perhaps not so smart.
6. 5 days of coughing + wicked sinus headaches + runny nose - any solid rest = doctor's appointment on Wednesday.
7. Ordered into quarantine for Thursday and Friday which means I've missed or am missing the following: The Book Lover's Ball (I was actually looking forward to dressing up like Sylvia Plath in my red dress and Mexican beads), two days of work, lunch with Sam and Chico, and quite possibly The Weakerthans outdoor show at Nathan Phillips Square tomorrow night. But forced quarantine means that I've caught up on all the TV on the PVR. Have now seen all the episodes of jPod (which looks, acts and smells a lot like the book, yes, that's a given, but the feature film Everything's Gone Green, right down to the set decoration and the secondary characters) and am enjoying it, quite liked Eli Stone, am shocked and dismayed by Paul's extra-curricular activities on Corrie Street, and was reduced to watching Wild Hogs (absolutely embarrassingly awful) and semi-delighted to see The Science of Sleep, which then led me to searching out Serge Gainsbourg on YouTube and falling into an internet coma (damn you Ethan Hawke, damn you for pulling me back into the spoils of celebrity gossip if only for a second) until I recovered enough to catch up somewhat on my posts since we've been back from vacation.
8. This morning: coughing up a bit of blood + meds + exhaustion + good night's sleep + a dry house = feeling better but not 100% and when will it end? Stupid disease medication. Stupid immune system. Bah! But isn't the snow pretty?
How is everyone else?