Seven days. That's how long I've been a fixture on the couch. I've been here so long, I feel like I'm epoxied to the cushions. I have a husband who's been so attentive I'm wondering if he got a nursing degree somewhere that I don't know about. (Read: feeding me on time, nagging me to take meds, keeping my mug filled with hot tea all the time, and helping me to walk to and fro.) Now, poor thing got a cold all thanks to me.
I'm thankful that I have a rather tall stack of unread books and several gigs of entertainment loaded on my iPod. Nards also put my laptop on our breakfast tray so that I can go online while confined on the sofa. Hence, my steady stream of plurks and twitters.
I have a cough that's loud and incessant enough to keep our entire building awake throughout the night, but it has abated somewhat, meaning Nards and I get about five hours of sleep now, as opposed to three and a half. Although it has given me a semi permanent muscle pain in my midsection (think muscle pains due to yoga) and a rather unpleasant sensation on my forehead.
Cabin fever has settled in. I. Want. To. Go. Out. Of. The. House. I don't care if it's going to be a nasty trip to a hospital or even if it's just to go down to the lobby. Just get me out. Nards said we can will go out tomorrow and take a walk. Yey! Can't wait.
No comments:
Post a Comment