Here’s the story of coughing, misery, and Martians.
First, my left eye broke. It keeps going all blurry. Then I got a huge ulcer in my mouth, but in such a place I cannot reach to apply ulcer cream. Someone else could, but I only allow myself and my dentist to put a finger in my mouth, otherwise, it’s just weird. Then my right eye broke. Unrelated to my left eye issues, this eye is fine for a while, then I get a sharp stabbing pain in it, it waters, then it’s fine once more. I did find an eyelash in it, an eyelash I managed to get out, albeit with plenty of eye poking. Now that eye just waters all the time, my thinking being that I should’ve washed my finger before I started poking myself in the eye. Must be an infection. Oh, and talking of infections, I just got a throat infection! Yea! More coughing! Once again. Oh, and then, as well as all that, I got a chest infection, too. So I’m coughing even more. Oh, and I have the worst hay fever I’ve ever had, as well. I sneezed 12 times in a row this week, before collapsing to the ground and curling up into a ball because my ribs had evaporated. Now, for most people, all these problems at the same time would probably be enough to deter them from going out into a thundery downpour to do some photographing. Ah, but not I. For you see, I am a Yorkshireman, and we do not know when we’re beaten. Needless to say, by the time I arrived home, not only were my problems much worse, my knees had gone and my back is in so much pain, for some reason, I can’t bend over. Still, could be worse. Why, I could be dead, readers. Something that I am surprised hasn’t happened already, but you never know. Knowing my luck, I’ll be hit by a runaway cow this week and killed instantly by the crazy bat wielding clown on its back…
But I’m not going to sit here and complain about all my problems, readers. That’s not something I do anymore. Ahem. Although, that said, I could do with a hug. Although without any ribs, I’m a bit squishy. I’m never in a particularly good mood when I’m not well, especially when I have every ailment in the history of ailments. Right now, I’m walking around the house with two pieces of tissue stuffed up my nostrils. It’s not a good look, if I’m being honest.
You see, I’m the type of person who will not stop. I am restless. And if I’m ill, well, I do not stop. So I am trying to maintain a sense of normality, but you can’t really maintain a sense of normality when everything is falling to shit. And therefore, one becomes frustrated and stressed out, which makes everything worse. My eyes are so watery I didn’t see the dishwasher door and I tripped over that today. Now I have a sore ankle to add to my woes.
Still, it’s not as bad as that time I was really ill and I was home alone. I made myself a lovely dinner. I had all the meat in the world on that plate. Some eggs, too. A huge mug of tea. Of course, when one isn’t well, as I said, one’s vision is often impaired. And that alongside a thumping headache 24/7 creates a soufflé of misery. So it’s to be expected that, as I was carrying my tray with my dinner on it up to my room, I missed the top step and fell over. If I landed in my dinner, sure, it’s a salvageable nightmare, but nope, it went over my head and down the stairs, blanketing it in an hour’s worth of cooking. Hmm. That wasn’t a good day.
These things seem to be a frequent occurrence when one isn’t 100%. I mean, today is my cleaning day but every time I bend over, my head starts thumping, which has left me a tad concerned that my brain isn’t attached to anything and it’s just floating around up there in some primordial soup. Although that would explain a lot. So now I have to try to clean and tidy without bending over. Much harder than it sounds, I can tell you that.
Ah, my computer. My source of eternal happiness. Oh, no it isn’t. I’m quite violently coughing, I have been for about a month. And when one coughs, out comes all of one’s saliva. Meaning I can’t see the computer screen. It’s like a waterfall of spit and mucus. Apologies if you’re eating.
Ah, so sit down and do nothing, then. That’s what I have to do? Nope. My nose blocks up when I lie down. Or sit down. Or any position that isn’t standing up straight. Of course, I can’t stand up straight, because when I do, I get room spin. Go to sleep? Ah. No. I can’t. I have to be doing something. I can’t sit still, my friends. And, of course, doctors now tell us the best cure for what ails us is to keep moving. Bed rest and soup, so they now tell us, is the absolute worst thing you can do if you’re not well. A resting heart rate means all those good soldier cells in your body are taking a shitting long time to reach the war zones. If you’re up and about, you get better quicker. I think they’re called ‘soldier cells’. I did fail biology. I mean, I didn’t do biology because my school had no money, but I presume I’d fail biology…
Just sit down and have something to eat, you’ll say. Erm, no. Can’t eat, either. This huge jet black ulcer, a good inch in diameter – it’s a beaut – is right at the back of my mouth, where my huge back teeth are. Every time I chew, my teeth brush over the ulcer causing a pain I can only describe as like being kicked in the joy department.
This inability to eat that often also means that my temperamental sugar levels are dropping and I’ve had a few sugar crashes this week, not pleasant when one is coughing like a docker, has a headache like a vice, is oozing snot like a chocolate fountain, can’t stand up without falling over something, and can’t eat. Really, I could do with a time machine right about now, readers. I’d go forward a couple weeks and pluck that me from the timeline and replace this me with future me so this me is as well as future me. I’d then be left to mull over a temporal headache as well as the usual one.
Since it’s getting harder and harder to see the computer screen, I think it’s best I bid you a fond adieu. Hopefully, by next week, I’ll be a bit better and back to my usual dreary self. Not that you’ll notice much difference, I suppose. Of course, I’ll probably be a bit dead, in which case, since I don’t have a will, I’d like to leave all my stuff to the Martians.
I wonder what’s in this cough medicine…
American columnist and editor, Doug Larson (1926-?), once said: “Life expectancy would grow by leaps and bounds if green vegetables smelled as good as bacon.”
Peace Out :|:
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