I haven’t been in tip-top shape, as of late. It’s the flu season, or so I hear. And I got it. For a week now, I’ve been pretty much at home, feeling sick, taking an extra set of meds, and trying to get better. And it sucks.
I’ve been in bed, getting up to write and work and do whatever, but not really leaving the house, and just working on my computer. If I didn’t have work, I’d just be in bed, feeling miserable. I had Zithromax for three days and if you have ever been on Zithromax, you know how awful that feels.
I’ve had my own bouts with all manners of sicknesses, so it was great to at least be able to recover in the safe confines of my own home and without an IV sticking out of my arm. This was practically a cake-walk compared to my last bouts with an illness. But still, I’ve been pretty much in good health since my last hospitalisation. Because I have relatively good health, when I get hit by anything, even just a fever, I’m really down for the count. I don’t take it well and I am rendered helpless until I get better.
Everyone around me is dropping like files; the flu is getting the better of them and it has not been kind. Someone very close to me just got rushed to the hospital last night and all I could think of was: Shit! It could be so much worse for me. It could be way much worse for me.
So I take my vitamins and drink lots of liquids and hope to the high heavens that I’ll make it through this without any untoward incidence. But I have to keep working and having disappeared for a whole week is no longer viable for extension. I have to get back on track and start working my ass off because there are loads of things that need to be paid and I got to work like a beast to meet up with my payments. Welcome to the modern world in third world economics.
I miss being healthy. I miss being funny. I miss being physically active. I miss leaving the house. I miss a lot of things. I hate the flu season.