You know I have to be sick when I pass up family events two days in a row. Yesterday was my worst (so far) with this cold. I was so unremittingly miserable that I couldn't get out of the chair for more than two minutes at a time. Today was a little better. In fact, I thought for a while that I might even be able to make Thanksgiving dinner.
But no, the waves of wretchedness kept coming. I'd have a good hour and then a bad hour. At least by now I'm pretty much convinced it's nothing more than a common cold. That's bad enough, with la post-nasal drippe (with the wheezes and the sneezes and the sinus that's really the pip), and the stuffy head that leaves me with no sense of taste and no appetite. If I hadn't promised myself I wouldn't step on the scales until January 11, I'd see how much I weigh now. It feels as if I've lost several pounds just in the last three days.
It's all in my head, though, which I consider to be good news. Once things get that well-defined, all I have to do is endure them until they're gone. I know that all I can do is treat the symptoms and hope to get through one more night and one more day until it's over. That's comforting, even if I did have to miss being with people today.
While I was feeling halfway okay today, I wished I'd decided to go to dinner. I had a sense that being with the family might give me a little strength. The feeling didn't last long, though, and it's probably a good thing I did stay home, because I can't afford a setback.
I've missed so much work this week that I put in a couple of hours paying company bills today. Unfortunately, those were the only two really good hours I had, and I paid the price afterward. It's hard to know what to do when moving makes you hurt but doing nothing makes you feel like a useless lump.