I've been sick

I came down with an interesting disease.  Interesting in that it was not the usual misery one experiences from a cold, but not quite what one expects from the flu.

What interesting terminology.  You "come down" with a dis-ease.  Like you come down from upstairs, searching because you have lost your ease.   I "catch" a cold.  Seems like I should be able to correct the situation by "catching" a warm.  Never worked for me.  Under the weather?  When are we not?  "Hello, Honey.  I'm not under the weather anymore.  I'm on the International Space Station."  And the flu?  Isn't that where gases escape from the chimney?  OK, maybe that one makes sense.

Nothing works, but over-the-counter medications
provide at least the illusion
that you are doing something about your illness.

We had a lovely weekend with temperatures in the 60s where everyone else took down their Christmas lights.  Ours remain.  I did not get out of the house for the entire weekend, sleeping all night, and then being unable to keep my eyes open for any appreciable amount of time during the day.   So when I wasn't out cold on the bed in the room my daughter no longer occupies, I dozed dizzily on the couch.   The NFL provided sporadic entertainment, but lacked in continuity due to my drowsiness.  And all four of the teams I would have preferred to see win did nothing to buoy my spirits.

By Monday, I was feeling significantly better.  I could stand up without feeling like I was soon to fall over.  Thought I had turned the corner and went back to my usual lifestyle, but the onset of one doozey of a cold convinced me I had rashly rushed the recovery.  Another lost weekend.  Hack.  Wheeze.  Head full of goo.  Cough again.  Warm fluids down the throat help, but not enough to remove the soreness.  Back to my daughter's room so that my maladies would not ruin my wife's sleep.  

The full wastebasket,
also known as a nose-redness meter.

One gets to the point where you can't help but ask yourself, "Is this ever going to end?"  What a dismal thought, living a life where you never feel good.  

The only reason for having bad days is so that you appreciate all the good ones.  And for realizing how lucky you are.   With glasses that do not fully correct his sight, I can see an aged balding man leaning toward me and saying, "Don't be a shlemiel.  If you have your health...you have everything."

I have a young friend who is tired all the time.  Every night, he must go to the hospital to have his blood cleaned.  If the testing is favorable, and a family member is compatible, there is a chance that he may receive a kidney soon.  Otherwise, he must continue the arduous routine of having his blood removed and cleaned every night while he hopes that he lives the years until the day when his turn arises in the queue of those waiting for donors.  

Puts the cold and flu in perspective, doesn't it?  I'll try not to be a shlemiel.