Can it be? Can it be that I might get through a goodly portion of the day without feeling like I have been punched in the throat? Oh joy!
Seriously. It’s been one of those weeks. I’ve had pain on the right side of my neck and throat, of the swollen gland variety, that started late last week and has been bugging me ever since. And combine that with various and sundry sinus pain, and a general feeling of very tired, and it’s been not tons of fun. (But it just doesn’t seem inclined to want to turn into a cold of any sort, which I suppose is a good thing.)
Plus, BDH has what looks to be at least one broken finger from soccer on Monday night. At the very least, a couple of really bad sprains. Ugly, swollen, discoloured fingers.
So it’s not been the best of weeks so far here at the House of Peevish.
I have been taking it easy this week. I have been consoling myself with lots of tea, knitting and Doctor Who. The Ninth Doctor, Christopher Eccleston. Of course. (Duh!) I am almost at The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances and the appearance of the most excellent Captain Jack. If a Nine/Jack combo can’t shake you out of a sickly funk, I don’t know what can.
I have also been trying to convince the Big Damn Hero it’s time to go to emergency and get a doctor (a different sort of doctor to the one I have been seeing, obviously) to have a look at that hand. Which he is considering.
But today, I feel more human. I’ve been waggling my head around like a bobble-head doll on speed and so far, it’s much better. Could just be that I only woke up a little while ago. You know how it is — you always feel better in the morning after you’ve slept for awhile (probably medicated) but by mid-afternoon you feel like you’ve been run over by a bus. But I am optimistic.
The rain continues outside, and the snow keeps melting. The damp gets in your bones, and it’s so hard to stay warm. So just to be safe, I’ll put on some thick socks, make a big pot of tea, and make an appointment with The Doctor.
It’s okay. He’s a professional.