'Cause when I'm sick, I'm sick. And bored. Too sick to read. Can't race through the seventh season of West Wing because I have to wait for Nick. (No comments, please. Let me get to the end. I think I love it more than M*A*S*H.) First time in days I have strength for the computer -- and not much. So I haven't been up to blogging and being entertaining.
But, please, don't let that stop everyone from nagging. I'm sure it's good for me.
I think the Week of the Schedule did me in. Plus I've got some kind of lump in my throat or my chest. I'll go to the doctor tomorrow. Maybe. Plus I'm nauseous. Plus I've lost my appetite -- for more than the normal 3 days.
I think the "lump," or lumpy feeling is from one of the painkillers, so I've just stopped them all. I'm over the morphine withdrawal, but I gather some of the other pills are also epilepsy medicines and require tapering off. Why on earth would they give me those?
At least I'm not eating madelines by the thousands now, although chocolate ice cream with chocolate bits is still on the menu.
If not "enjoying ill health," in her mother's phrase, not fighting it much, either.
