Thursday, January 23, 2014
So it turns out that the "little bug" I had contracted turned into a much bigger one. I had a 102 degree fever for two days and alternated between sweating like a racehorse and chills where there were not enough blankets in the house to get me warm. I'm still not taking appointments, even though I suppose I could, but I just don't feel like being a hero any more. There was a time when I would have powered through and worked, but you know what? One of the advantages of being your own boss and having no employees other than your cats is that you can call in sick and everyone else can just deal with it. I mean, yeah, I get some grief, but I'm at the point now where I just don't care.
"But!!! Success!!!! Competition!!!! Money!!!! Responsibility!!!" I hear you shout from the wings.
Well, if someone else was calling my shots, or, like my husband, if I worked in a place where I had not accumulated enough paid time off, then, yes, I would have been back to work yesterday, snot factory and all, hopped up on cough meds and trailing a case of kleenex around behind me and being absolutely no use at all and infecting others like a good little cog in the corporate machinery. But I am the boss, and without me, there is no business, and it really does take me a lot longer than the average bear to recuperate from a respiratory ailment. It's a fact of life for me.
My main goal at the moment is to rehydrate, because as you probably saw by my weight tracker, I dropped to 277.5 in a matter of days. Saturday I weighed 285.5. Yeah. Eight pounds in five days is not what I'd call healthy, at least for me. I imagine I'll plump back up from being a raisin by the weekend. I'm hoping that will shift all this congestion so I can get it out of my lungs and actually sleep at night.
Okay, enough with this kvetching.
This has given me pause, though. I was just getting over a cold when I went to Beijing that last time. I thought it wasn't a big deal, and we know how THAT turned out. I think I'm going to have to tell my colleague no, that I'm not going to Shanghai with him. "Oh, you'll regret it!" I hear you say. "You'll be like the girl who didn't go to Paris!" Yeah, the difference there is that the young lady who did not go to Paris chose not to go so her boyfriend wouldn't break up with her. I'm choosing not to go to Shanghai because I don't want to die from air pollution. Little bit of a difference there. I will not regret it. I've given it thought, and it is just not worth it. Am I disappointed? Yeah, a little. It would be exciting to see, and I'm sure I'd meet lots of new contacts (and terrorize some old ones, heh heh), but the risks outweigh the benefits. So, I must respectfully decline for health reasons.
And since I'm rambling on and avoiding doing anything constructive in my house, here's an interesting thing Mr. Karlsson and I have learned. So, the first 18 days of the new year, we ate restaurant food only once. The rest of the time, I have cooked and planned healthy food. Upon the 19th day, I was just too tired to cook, and my husband was getting his appetite back, so I ordered a pizza.
We just couldn't finish it. It made us both queasy. My husband announced that it (TMI ALERT) "cleared him out." He attributed it to having a cold, but I told him it was because his body had gone into shock from eating such bad food. He said that was surprising, but that he really didn't want a repeat performance, so I could have the rest of the pizza. Which is why it is currently molding in its box on the counter, because I didn't want it either. (We're quite behind on household chores at the moment!) He also said that maybe we should just make our own pizzas from now on if the ingredients are so bad that they cause mass evacuations after eating healthier for a couple of weeks. I'm inclined to agree with him. I mean, the convenience is great and all, but... it was just so... GROSS.
In other news, the healthier eating is making a difference for him (and so did the fever, poor guy). He sat down next to me last night and gave this sideways look. "Why are my pants fitting a little looser?" he asked. You know, like I'm in charge of how his pants fit or something. "How loose are we talking about?" I asked. "Welllll.... not down to a 34 loose, but MAYBE back almost to a 36. I mean, my 38s aren't falling off, but they fit a little looser," he said, still giving me the sideways look. "Part of it might be dehydration from your fever, but that was a week ago. Maybe it's all the non processed foods I'm forcing you to eat," I said. "Hmmm," he said. "So maybe we should keep that up, huh?" I said. "Maybe," he said, and stuck out his tongue.
Let's see, what else can I ramble about. Actually, I'm worn out from coughing. I wish I had some horehound. It just randomly came to me while I was trying to sleep the other night. Horehound candy was something my grandmother used to give me when I had a bad cough. That stuff was amazing! It was thick and dark mahogany colored and as it melted it coated your throat. I haven't seen any of that since I was seven or eight years old. And she'd get it in big sticks or these tiny pitiful "honey horehound" bits. The honey horehound was nasty. I preferred the straight up molassesy goodness of plain horehound. I distinctly remember somebody handing me a brown paper bag, and when I opened it, there was a great big bundle of those big sticks and I thought "BWA HA HA HAAAA! THEY'RE MINE!!!!! ALL MINE!!!!!" I didn't even have to share them with my sister or my cousins, because nobody liked it except me. In retrospect, this is pretty odd, because I was a VERY picky eater. There was just something about it, I guess, and now I really want some. Nuts!!!
Did any of you ever have horehound when you were kids, or is this just a Tennessee hillbilly thing?
Oh, wow... one more thing: too much medical grade peppermint tea will improve your digestion so much that your food will want to exit the way it entered. Just now discovered that. Cleanup on Aisle 7!