I do not remember the last time my whole body just ached this much.  I should be asleep, fast asleep, long asleep.  It’s almost two in the morning.  But here I am, wide awake (and so alive?) when I need not to be.  I just typoed “be” as “bed”, so what does that tell you?  I can hear him upstairs, snoring, and I know that won’t help when I do eventually make my way up there.  I ask him to see a doctor, sometimes I swear he stops breathing in the middle of the night and those are the time my heart skips and races until I make sure he’s breathing once more.  Hello, off my total and complete topic.  Hurt.  Me.  Yes.  Being sick is never fun and the past few days have been miserable.  I’ve tried not to tell people the extent of it, I hate worrying them, but Lord.  I barely remember Tuesday, which is probably bad seeing as I was at work for an hour and did most of my driving.  And as shitty as that day was, there was a really good part to it.

I don’t get to spend a lot of time with my mom anymore, not just the two of us.  Growing up, of course, I pretty much hated her and thought her job was to make my life hell on earth, and she did an excellent job of it.  And then came college and moving up, and the space helped.  Now we’re close.  I see her once a week, usually, family dinner, we talk on the phone a couple times.  It’s nice.  Anyway, Tuesday, I feel like hell and am finally scolded enough to make a doctors appointment.  Staying at work is pointless, I’m no good to anyone, and since my parents house is closer to both work and the doctors, I call to see if I can crash on their couch for a few hours.  Turns out, mom is home too, the same thing I have.  I buy some soup and some juice and head on over there.  We curl up on the couch together with the cats and some cheez its and watch Sense & Sensibility, the one with Hugh Grant and Kate Winslet.  My crush on Alan RIckman is renewed.  I realize I wish people still talked like that, acted like that. So proper.  My mom and I don’t talk a lot, but it’s just nice being there with her.  It was the perfect way to spend a sick day.  The movie ends, I head off, get my diagnosis, somehow make it home.

I’ve spent the past 3 days recovering.  My body was wrecked, exhausted, feverish.  I was uncomfortable, hardly even coherent at times, but managing to fake it.  The daytime isn’t as back, but in the afternoons I start fading and I’d forgotten what it’s like to really be sick.  I’m better now, thankfully, just left with this horrible, terrible cough that shakes my body.  My chest and neck hurt from it, but it means this mess is on it’s way out, so I’ll take it.  And then I will fling it very, very far away and hope it never comes back.  I don’t wish this upon my worst enemy.

I can’t hear him snoring anymore, but I bet he still is.  Guess I should go find out.