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.

So if any readers have been coughing and wheezing for a few days, especially with running eyes and occasional bouts of fever, seek professional medical advice at once. This is not a time for “mind over matter” (my usual mode) especially with term paper due dates, final exams and for some, graduation looming.

My wife is a strong proponent of the stress theory of disease. She told me this morning with my book Paradise Poisoned completed after fourteen years of writing, my body simply felt it could let its barriers down.

Being sick for days hasn’t been much fun, except for the support and concern of friends, staff and Anderson Hall neighbors, Moreover, reading about the travails of illness and forced immobility probably isn’t all that interesting. But there is no requirement that every blog be a literary masterpiece.