Many thanks to those who have emailed or commented with get well wishes. It means more than you know.
As an independent single gal who came to terms with and embraced her singleness many years ago, there aren't all that many times anymore when I wish I had a particular "someone" in my life. In fact, I can count my few loneliness-triggers on one hand:
- the holidays
- walking through my home airport after a tiring trip
I'm so used to taking care of myself, carrying my own luggage and grocery bags, doing what needs to be done without relying on someone else, that I don't even think about or wish for that kind of help anymore, except at times like this, when, gosh, it'd be nice to have someone drive me to the doctor, or gosh, it'd be nice to have someone make me chicken soup. And I'm actually not wishing for a husband so much as for a mother, or more accurately, my mother, from about 20 years ago when she was still capable of doing those things. Cruelly, time marches on.
But, fear not, Jason's Deli is bringing me some of their fabulous soup in a couple hours. That is, if they don't screw up my order like they've done the last three times.
As far as the scintillating details of my illness -- I'm still hacking and coughing and wheezing, and the bug has spread to my sinuses -- apparently it's an equal opportunity pathogen. I'm better today than yesterday though, when a reaction to the codeine cough syrup had me laying in bed with all the lights off and the blinds closed, trying not to cough (which made my head split open) or hurl (I was queasy all day).
Alas, dear codeine, I had such high hopes for you! You were going to make all of this misery worthwhile, and you let me down. What good are narcotics, if a gal can't rely on them to ease her from illness to carefree bliss, at least for a few hours?
I'm knitting a little, and will maybe have a finished object to share in a few days.
In the meantime, I'm hungry. When's that food getting here?