Posted tagged ‘sick’

“Being sick feels like you’re wearing someone else’s glasses.”

February 27, 2017

I am taking a sick day. It is nothing serious, just a general malaise, one which can be remedied by spending the day lying on the couch watching Netflix.

Okay, here’s an idea. BG posted a comment on my post about collections. He spoke about his collection, “My obsession of many years is vintage fountain pens — the kind they used in the 1920s-1940s. If you’re curious you can see some of them here: https://goo.gl/photos/3dQp8jn2xsnZ3neT6

He suggested it might be fun to find out what Coffee friends collect. I like the idea. Share your obsessions!! Leave a comment about your collections.

I have many collections: hats, literary cookbooks, metal noisemakers, snowglobes and 50’s Christmas items.

 

“Worries go down better with soup”

October 23, 2015

Today is windy and cold. The heat even went on this morning but it shut off once the house got warm. My street, usually quiet during the day, is aflutter with workers and noise. The roofers are still across the street and another truck is down the end of the street working on something in another neighbor’s house.

I think I’m on the road to recovery, but I’m exhausted. I still have that deep voice suited for those obscene phone calls and I still have a cough. I love my afternoon naps.

When I was a kid, we used to buy Smith Brothers wild cherry cough drops. I loved them because they tasted more like candy than medicine. It was easy to finish a box eating one right after the other. I liked the bearded Smith Brothers on the package. They looked so serious and stern befitting men who made medicine. Mark’s beard was better than his brother’s.

Cough medicine always tasted awful. My mother would come in with the bottle and the spoon, and I’d cringe knowing what was coming. The cough medicine was always thick, and if I had known the word vile back then, I’d have used it. I opened my mouth reluctantly knowing I really had no choice. My mother was relentless.

My mother had her sayings and warnings for winter, her truisms. Starve a cold, feed a fever was one of them. She believed in the medicinal power of soup be it chicken or tomato and that’s mostly what we ate when we were sick. I always believed it worked. I felt warm inside and out, and it was never too much to have to eat. We had the bundle up or you’ll catch cold admonition if we dared go without a hat because as every mother knew most of your body head escaped through your head. We would never go outside in the winter with wet hair because we were bound to catch a cold. I used to think wet hair attracted cold germs.

When I was a kid I never doubted my mother and her medical knowledge. I know better now about hats and wet hair, but my mother was right on about soup. Yesterday I had chicken noodle and saltines. I could have been ten again.

“Though sympathy alone can’t alter facts, it can help to make them more bearable.”

October 18, 2015

I can’t put my finger on which one but my wheezing reminds me of sound effects from a movie. They are a bit like metal scraping metal. I’m thinking this cold and being by myself for so long are affecting my brain. Sound effects from Wheezing?

Things are getting better. The cold’s grip is weakening. I only woke up twice last night and managed to sleep 11 interrupted hours. It looks like I have to go out sometime today. I haven’t any bread or soup or anything which tantalizes my taste buds. Sweets keep coming to mind. I’m thinking chocolate chip cookies are a possible remedy. I suspect, though, I’ll probably stay home. It takes far too much energy to get up and out even for chocolate chip cookies. Besides, I think I need a nap.

The day is cold. The sun pops in and out but is merely decorative when it appears. It isn’t warmth. I turned on my heat for one cycle this morning. My bed and comforter are sounding more and more appealing.

Not being around enough people is the reason I’m sick. When I worked, I was around kids with their various ills and ailments.  I developed an immunity. I don’t even remember when last I had a cold though this may be a whole different strain of something. I think I caught it during my reunion last weekend. With all those people in one room, someone must have had a germ or two and shared. How kind!

I’m combing the TV for classic horror movies. I’m thinking the Holy Trinity of Frankenstein, Dracula and The Mummy. I’m not including The Wolf Man as I always feel really sad for Larry Talbot. He didn’t deserve his fate.

I watch NCIS even though Abby and her pre-adolescent prattle drive me crazy. Just a while ago I happened on the last 5 minutes of The Brady Bunch and left it on as I wanted to watch what followed it. During those 5 minutes I had an epiphany. Abby based her character on Cindy Brady. They have the same child-like voice, intonations and the same childish indignations. Trust me on this one. The only NCIS mystery left is why the prop guy doesn’t realize we hear the echo of the empty coffee cup when Gibbs puts his coffee on the desk.

“If a doctor treats your cold, it will go away in fourteen days. If you leave it alone, it will go away in two weeks.”

October 15, 2015

Today is the mass in honor of my mother who passed away ten years ago. I am not there; instead, I am home coughing, sniffling and complaining though no one is here to listen. I do not get colds so this threw me for a loop. My guess is I caught it at the reunion where someone, a Typhoid Mary type, was passing the germ amid all the hugs and kisses. I am not happy.

This will be a short post. I’m going back to bed after dousing myself with a variety of cold medicines. My voice is so deep I could sing bass or make obscene phone calls. When I cough, Gracie lives the room. The cats don’t even notice. They sleep right through my hacking.

I’d like one of those talking dolls they sold when I was a kid. They had a string you pulled to make them talk, and they said things like “I love you,” but I want mine to say things like “You poor baby” or “How about some nice hot chicken soup?” I remember The Twilight Zone episode when the talking doll was evil. “My name is Talky Tina, and I’m going to kill you.” I’ll pass on that one.

The common cold has no cure and you just have to let it runs its course. I sleep and take medicine to dull the symptoms for a while. The only hope I have is pneumonia. That they can cure.

” Imagine what it would be like if TV actually were good. It would be the end of everything we know.”

March 22, 2015

I have not escaped winter’s wrath. My head aches, my throat is scratchy and my cough scares the dog. Luckily I have a doctor’s appointment this week. Unluckily I am entertaining. It is difficult to be gracious and welcoming when your only wish is to be in bed under the warm covers; however, I will rise to the occasion. Besides, that’s what home restaurant delivery is for.

The snow disappeared but the cold stayed. Getting the newspaper was a quick out and in. I didn’t even take time to admire the morning, but I did notice the birds singing.

March has always been one of those months when little happens. It isn’t spring yet except for the date and it isn’t really winter either as the season is losing its strength. Every warm day gives us hope then winter rushes back in and the nights are freezing.

This is a rant about things I notice on TV. Newscasters always either carry tablets or have them on the desk in front of them, but they never once look at them. During winter you seldom see the huffs of people’s breathing when they’re outside in the cold air. The cups of take-out coffee are always empty. Gibbs on NCIS has yet to drink a cup of coffee. He puts the cup to his mouth and pretends to drink, but the cup is never heavy and the coffee is never hot. On Rizzoli and Isles they mispronounce the names of Massachusetts’ cities even though the show supposedly takes place in Boston. They ride on highways which don’t exist in this state. On the Big Bang Theory nobody really eats the take-out. They toy with their food though once in a while Howard takes a bite of his lunchtime salad. I get the no eating as too many takes would mean too much food, but they could make it a bit more realistic. Really, how times does one dish of food need to be moved about with a fork?

I can watch the worst movies on the syfy channel. I loved Sharknato as ridiculous as it was, but it was intended to be that way. I just suspend disbelief, and it all works out for me, but for programs which are meant to be real life, I scoff at the little things. They drive me crazy.

“‘Tis healthy to be sick sometimes.”

June 8, 2014

The pain got bad enough that I went to the CareWell Urgent Care clinic yesterday. The nurse practitioner said all she could do was give me something for the pain and something for possible infection. I almost kissed her. The pills and the gel seem to be keeping the pain at bay for a few hours then I need more. Last night I slept well. This morning I was industrious: I showered, changed my bed, washed the winter quilt, watered the outside plants and put the screen in the front door. Just about then the industry disappeared and the pain reappeared. I took some pills and a nap, but, as my mother would say, I am not feeling up to par.

I am taking a day of sick leave. Coffee, I hope, will return tomorrow.

“The sky is the daily bread of the eyes.”

January 31, 2013

The wind howled all night and rain pounded against the windows. I heard it when the coughing woke me up, but I didn’t mind being awakened as I might have missed the rain, one of my favorite sounds. The howling wind was a bonus. It could have been from the soundtrack of an old black and white horror movie, like The Werewolf.

Yesterday morning I called my friend of over forty years, and he thought I was a guy named Paul. That was it for me. I called the doctor. They wanted me in right away. I think my coughing during the phone call worked to great effect. Come to find out my cold has morphed into bronchitis and was working its way toward pneumonia. I’m on all sorts of stuff right now which should make me sound far less like Paul and more like me.

It’s still windy and rainy. I had to convince Gracie to go out this morning then I ran for the papers and yesterday’s mail which was still in the box. The mail was boring. I have to get Gracie’s license today. It is, of course, the very last day to get it without an extra fee. I like living on the edge!

At the doctor’s they told me I needed to rest. I almost laughed out loud. Rest is my middle name. I love a good afternoon nap.

Because I haven’t seen anyone or been anywhere, my life has no new stories and no new people. I communicate entirely by phone. I spend the day reading and relaxing. I know, I know, a really tough way to while away the day. I’ve been reading David Baldacci, The Forgotten, and I like it. I stretch out on the couch with my afghan covering me and my dog beside me. If I weren’t sick, I’d think my life idyllic.

The rain has stopped, and the sun is out. The sky is mostly blue. I can still hear the wind, and through my window I can see the swaying branches of the oak and pine. It looks like a pretty day.