Friday, May 9, 2014

Blog-a-Day May: Day Nine: Today's Humilliation

Day two with the flu.

It's gone from man-flu to the actual flu. Cough, sneezes, temperature, aching all over, no appetite to speak of, can't get warm, taking showers every two hour just to feel fresh, head aches... it's the flu.

Thing is, living alone, if you need anything, it means getting out of bed, getting dressed and going out yourself.

So, after a long coughing fit, after dosing myself up on that wonder drug, Disprin, when I came to the end of an episode of Rake (up to Season Three) I had my fourth shower of the day, put on some clothes and drove down the street. Supermarket for milk, something that only required microwaving before serving and more tissues.

Also had to drop into the naturopath to change an appointment and to pick up some mixes.

Took every fibre in my being to make it up the stairs.

Pete, SuperNaturopath, greeted me with a "Shit, you look awful."
"Thanks."
"And you sound worse. This aint a head cold you know."
"Yep."
"What are you taking?" he asked, backing away from the counter.
"Disprin and Ease-A-Cold".
"Good. Disprin fixes everything."

Pete comes from the same medical school as my mother.

I'll highly recommend Ease-a-Cold - a herbal version of Codral cold and flu (or Lemsip) which works just as well if not better as these without the harsh chemicals.

Being the flu, the doctor-doctor is going to prescribe disprin and something similar to Ease-a-Cold too.

"So what are you doing for the next few days?" he asked.
"Lying in bed, using boxes of tissues binge and watching Rake and Breaking Bad."
"Sounds like a good thing."
"Only came out because I've run out of milk, tissues and loo paper."
"Yep."
"Joys of living alone and getting sick."

I stood there in my trakkie dacks and windcheater and started to cry. Head down, shoulder slouched, tears pouring down my cheeks.

"Oh, poor possum. I'd give you a hug but I don't want to get what you've got. Looks disgusting."

That made me smile. He called me "Possum."

I recovered myself, regained my composure, bought my stuff and made my way to the supermarket.

Living alone is great until you get sick.

I do feel a little bit better about showing my vulnerability to somebody who's known my for years, but still. Even worse than feeling sick is when you feel sorry for yourself.

Called Blarney when I got home - she's in bed with this too. Would have asked her to bring around Maow Maow to look after me.

Jonella said she'd bring some Jewish Penicillin tomorrow morning.

Mum calls every morning to check up on me.

Just want to get better so that I can write about something better than being sick.

Hopefully tomorrow some of my strength and appetite returns.


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