Being sick. Not fun. Not interesting. And a warning
My note on “being thankful for small things” was appropriate, but premature. The malady I have contracted is a bit like a guerilla adversary. It lures you into a resumption of normal routines with a false dawn of wellness, only to mount a new and devastating assault of fever, coughing and immobility. Tuesday night, bathed in my own sweat, I dragged myself off to Kaiser’s Urgent Care (a great service incidentally) and learned that my malady has a name, bronchitis. Also that this is what is “going around” and that if untended, it morphs into walking pneumonia. I was given a much needed dose of antibiotics and other medicines. My home remedies were doing nothing more than masking symptoms and sustaining a fragile, deteriorating equilibrium.
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