Sore throat. Buzzing feeling in head and ears. Nose that feels like I just ducked my head under water at the pool and took a big, long sniff. Body aches, something like being repeatedly flailed with a gym sock that has a bar of soap in the toe. Barely enough energy to drag myself in here to the computer so that I could type my complaints - because my priorities? They are as straight as arrows and I know that the first most important thing when diagnosing oneself with an ailment large or small is to make sure that EVERYONE CLEARLY KNOWS one is sick (or getting that way) so that flowers, cards, gifts and offerings of therapeutic food and drink can come pouring in. I will grumpily concede that it never really works that way and that I could be splayed out on my bed with a raging fever and a strong will to depart this mortal coil and someone in my family would still bang the door open and demand to know what's for dinner.
I just finished nursing Aisling through this trial and she coughed and hacked and whined all over me for four days running, so I am going to bow to the inevitable and drink some hot tea with honey and lemon. And feel sorry for myself. Or does that go without saying?
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