That damn flu came back yesterday, and I spent the morning at the doctor...getting poked, prodded, and patted.
The patting part was nice...a kind nurse took pity on me as I blathered on and on about all of the crap that's dropped on my head lately, and she even cooed "There, there" gently, while tenderly sticking the thermometer so far into my ear I thought it would come out of the other side of my head.
Whatever this is has decided to settle in my ears and neck, and in addition to feeling generally unwell, I feel like I'm doing it underwater and listing to one side. (I had all of the stuff on the left side of my neck taken out 25 years ago when I had thyroid cancer, so now the right side of my neck seems to be taking the brunt of everything.)
I was doing OK and listening to Dr. Barbara's directions about Tylenol, fluids, rest, etc, but when she told me that I am pretty much grounded and can't go to the Dressing Downton tea on Sunday, I cried pitiful tears all over the front of my sweater.
And then she ordered nineteen pages of labwork, gave me a list of stuff I can take for congestion, and got the heck outta there before I was able to grab her by the front of her labcoat and tell her I want my mommie.
Oey. It is, most absolutely certainly, not easy being me at the moment. I am going to take my Gatorade and crawl back into bed until the Spring thaw.
Here's hoping that your weekend is off to a much better start and that you stay warm and safe and dry and plague free for the duration!
P.S. I decided to leave well enough alone with the baking this year and try again for Easter.
Damn Greek cookies.