Monday 15 October 2018

Perfect. It will take my mind off everything else.

Pneumonia and strep. A two-hitter. I already had pneumonia in April, I don't believe I need it again but here it is. Can a person just wear out? That's what I'm concerned about now, that I'm so run down all the time it will just get worse and then the really bad illnesses will find out and come inside. (The water's fine right?) Here I was worried about my legs and my body hurting so much from work and from overly-rough efforts to provide me with some affection I would never forget (I don't forget any of it, dear lord, I swear I don't) and my lungs and throat were all Hold my beer.

But it's fine because I have antibiotics and a throat gargle thing that has painkillers in it and after twenty four hours of that I don't dread swallowing. I slept in a little. I'm not going to work. I'm just going to take it as slow as I can.

But it still sucks and I don't think I fully have chance to get better. When I had this in April it was just before/during my job and I started work with a deficit that seems to grow and grow and I can't even catch my breath so maybe I should quit. My boss called this morning, shorthanded, Where are you? You're late and I told him I called in yesterday and spoke to his third in command so I'm covered and I wondered if he would tell me I was fired and I realized I wouldn't be sad I'd be relieved so bring it and then I can find something less hectic, less rude but probably not.

I need to be able to sleep during the day.

I need to feel better than this.

Lochlan pushes his head against mine after my phone call this morning. Stay in bed. Let's sleep.

So I tried but I couldn't. And I looked out this morning and squealed as the tops of the other houses were covered with frost and briefly it's exciting. Because winter isn't forty degrees in the shade.

It's ten, here in the rainforest. Which only feels marginally different, unless you're in the water (It's fine, right?).

I'm going to go try and will myself to get better today. Lochlan is close, the fire is blazing beautifully in the kitchen fireplace and I have an unlimited supply of tea and honey.  He has an unlimited supply of presence, patience and affection (gentle or rough, depending on the time of day and our moods) and he's absolutely one hundred percent sure he can look after me, just like he always has.

I believe him today. I didn't yesterday.