Snow Melt

I hate being sick

I hate being sick. When I was a child I did not like being ill because it made me feel bad, but I did not hate it. However, at 65 I hate being ill and I realize why I dislike it so much. I have no one to take care of me, so I have to take care of myself. In addition, I have to take care of my mother. Taking care o myself when I am ill is sometimes difficult and taking care of two people at a time like this is like walking barefooted across loose gravel with several large sharp stones hidden among the loose gravel.

I am feeling a lot better today then I was last week or even on Sunday. The cough is still hanging on, but eventually that will leave like the summer heat in Las Vegas; slowly a little each day. I can now drink more then one cup of coffee without wanting to drink a gallon of water, which is usually an indication that I am on the highway of recovery. There were about three or four days last week that I did not drink any coffee because it made me thirsty.

I wish I knew ahead of time when I would be getting sick. If I knew then I could plan for it and get someone in to take care of Mom. I can take care of myself when I am sick, I do not like doing it, but I can do it. Mom did not seem to notice me being sick. If she did notice she did not say anything and I am sure she would have said something. Of course, in Mom's condition there is not telling how much she knows or comprehends about her surrounding environment.

I am better now and getting better all the time. I should be feeling fit as a fiddle without strings by Friday, which is much better then being fit as a fiddle that is broken into several widely scattered pieces. Maybe I will buy a couple of pints of chocolate ice cream the next time I go to the store.