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Today has been wildly exciting. Stop looking at me like that, it has. I just woke up from a dream which had jungle adventure, lost people and me fixing a roll-up computer screen so that my late grandmother could watch television. She complained the whole time, too, in exactly the way she did when she was alive.
Yesterday afternoon my body caught up with me. The cold and the Show and all that work meant I could hardly move. I slept. All afternoon and all night and most of the morning.
Today I've woken and worked in dribs and drabs and eaten and slept and whinged to myself about how much it all hurt. Because it did.
Now, though, it only half hurts and I want to walk on air for a bit. This means I can watch TV and nap and eat and work and still get the three hours outstanding stuff done today. And there's a good chance of my breathing improving. And... it's a reminder to me that there are consequences to that anaphylactic shock in February. Consequences even more aggravating that not able to eat string beans. Immune system consequences. This lost weekend is actually the result of the cold I had last week. Colds are likely to go to my chest now, and cause aggravating side effects. For this whole winter, every time I can avoid antibiotics will be a triumph, because I'm already on heightened asthma prevention.
Right now I'm in the moment where it looks as if everything's turning round. Breathing is not so tiring and maybe tomorrow I'll be able to walk up the street and get the tissues I forgot to buy yesterday.
I'm well placed to get through this as quickly as my body allows, thanks to the goodness of three friends. Those market trips once a fortnight will mean I don't have to live on pasta and sauce the way I did one winter when I was still on cortisone and had nothing else round and found scrambling out of bed the best I could do during four different bouts of bronchitis. And a second friend just took me on a shopping trip specifically to get a couple of emergency meals and to stock up on basics like toilet paper. And yet another friend has already said he can lend me some DVDs to help me get through what looks as if it will be a fairly inconvenient winter. All I need to do is get to the library after I teach on Wednesdays and keep an eye on my medicines and I'll be fine.
I didn't know I would be fine until twenty minutes ago, though. I needed to know how quickly my body responded. And the answer is, that though I'm not as well off as two months ago, I'm still better off than when I'm on cortisone. This is a matter for great rejoicing.
There's another upside. Until my breathing rights itself (which could be a day but is more likely to be in August) I shall sound very sexy on the phone.
Yesterday afternoon my body caught up with me. The cold and the Show and all that work meant I could hardly move. I slept. All afternoon and all night and most of the morning.
Today I've woken and worked in dribs and drabs and eaten and slept and whinged to myself about how much it all hurt. Because it did.
Now, though, it only half hurts and I want to walk on air for a bit. This means I can watch TV and nap and eat and work and still get the three hours outstanding stuff done today. And there's a good chance of my breathing improving. And... it's a reminder to me that there are consequences to that anaphylactic shock in February. Consequences even more aggravating that not able to eat string beans. Immune system consequences. This lost weekend is actually the result of the cold I had last week. Colds are likely to go to my chest now, and cause aggravating side effects. For this whole winter, every time I can avoid antibiotics will be a triumph, because I'm already on heightened asthma prevention.
Right now I'm in the moment where it looks as if everything's turning round. Breathing is not so tiring and maybe tomorrow I'll be able to walk up the street and get the tissues I forgot to buy yesterday.
I'm well placed to get through this as quickly as my body allows, thanks to the goodness of three friends. Those market trips once a fortnight will mean I don't have to live on pasta and sauce the way I did one winter when I was still on cortisone and had nothing else round and found scrambling out of bed the best I could do during four different bouts of bronchitis. And a second friend just took me on a shopping trip specifically to get a couple of emergency meals and to stock up on basics like toilet paper. And yet another friend has already said he can lend me some DVDs to help me get through what looks as if it will be a fairly inconvenient winter. All I need to do is get to the library after I teach on Wednesdays and keep an eye on my medicines and I'll be fine.
I didn't know I would be fine until twenty minutes ago, though. I needed to know how quickly my body responded. And the answer is, that though I'm not as well off as two months ago, I'm still better off than when I'm on cortisone. This is a matter for great rejoicing.
There's another upside. Until my breathing rights itself (which could be a day but is more likely to be in August) I shall sound very sexy on the phone.