I spent my last few days in DC in a miserable phlem-coated nightmare of depravity. Yes, I managed to catch a severe upper respiratory infection (that I am still fighting today).
To highlight just how bad I felt: I willingly laid on the floor at the Atlanta airport. Yes, me. Yes, floor. Yes, floor of the busiest airport in the world. No, my germ-phobeness didn't overtake me, I felt so bad I was certain I was going to kick off anyway.
I am still wheezing, coughing and phlemy as all get-out, but day 3 on antibiotics makes me a much happier person. I don't think I'm going to die of this now, which is a comfort compared to Friday when I thought it was a possibility.
I don't remember ever being this sick in recent memory.
DC was fabulous, as always, although the constant rain/wind brought on by the remnants of Hurricane Ida-turned-nor'easter was vicious and unpleasant. I was so glad to see sunshine again.
Spent my birthday in bed, except for a trip to the Dr's then a trip later to the pharmacy. Slept 18 of the 24 hours. Sunday was not much different although I went out to the beach with Mary and 3 of the 4 kiddos. It was nice to sit in the sun. I was hoping it would bake some of this crap out of me.
Today has been spent getting laundry done and cleaning up a bit from the trip. Tonight is a trip to see Stephen King in Sarasota for his Under the Dome booktour. I am crazy excited to see him.
Until then ... a good nap and some more meds. Celebrate the b-day next weekend ...
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