Hazy winter night, inside and out

It's Friday night, ten o'clock, and I'm in bed, dozing off and on. Sounds a mite pathetic taken out of context, but trust me, this a moment of quiet triumph. You see, I've been ridiculously ill this week, and dozing means I'm neither coughing my brains out nor wincing against the pain behind my eyes.

It's a sign of how sick I've been that I'm currently pleased to have only a slight fever, just under 100; I've been running a fever for four days straight now, usually between 100 and 102. I'm not sure if it's the fever or the medicine or a combination of both, but I am increasingly loopy, so that I sort of always feel a little asleep, and just before I actually do fall asleep I feel, for lack of a better word, floaty.

I like it, this floatiness. I wish it were attainable by some means other than a cocktail of Halls Mentho-lyptus cough drops, Tussionex prescription cough syrup (with hydrocodone), Albuterol (yes, they gave me a puffer), Levaquin, ibuprofen, acetamenophin (alternated to keep the fever down), and my usual meds, all marinated in a moist, warm cloud of camphor via my new Vicks vaporizer. [It's like I upended a Walgreens into a blender, isn't it?]

Outside my windows, the fog and drizzle match the fuzziness in my head if not the warmth. Sigh. I'm so grateful to have a roof over my head; to have a job that's actually encouraged me to stay home and get well; to have insurance when so many others are going without; to have friends and family who care for me and have called just to see if I'm feeling better; to have groceries in my fridge; and to have my health only slightly and temporarily marred by this little bout of sickness. I'm grateful for a lot more, including all those prescriptions mentioned above, but I'm starting to fall asleep again. You get the picture. I wish I could write more coherantly about what I'm feeling, but the meds just aren't going to let that happen.

And so, good night and pleasant dreams to all...wishing you warm, fuzzy, floatiness.