Last night, I set the alarm for 7:30, took some Tylenol Cold PM, and settled in at about eight to watch the umpteenth rebroadcast of "A Charlie Brown Christmas." At about 8:45, the medicine was taking effect, so I turned off the light and conked out.
I woke up at various times during the night, but was bound and determined that I was NOT getting out of bed until I was ready. I didn't have to work until 11:30, so I had plenty of time.
At seven this morning, I was debating whether to call off, but I didn't. Instead, I got to the office early. I attempted to walk a little, but couldn't even do half of the walking I usually do before I had to quit.
I started my shift, and I told my co-workers that I would make a decision about whether to stay or not at 3:30. I actually started to feel a little bit better by then, but things went downhill after lunch.
I wound up going home an hour early. I have three days to make up the hour. I hope that this is the nadir of this illness. I have been drinking liquids constantly, yet I am finding where I am not going to the bathroom much at all. My face, hands, and fingers have blown up like balloons, leading me to think that because of all the blowing of my nose, my body is holding on to any fluids it gets.
On the other hand, being sick has done wonders to curb my interest in eating. Yesterday, I had about 2000 calories, but today I have topped out at about 1300. It is a combination of (a) not having much of an appetite, and (b) I have been coughing so much that my throat is so raw it makes swallowing painful.
By the time this stupid cold is out of me (and I have gotten rid of all this extra fluid), I just might have lost a couple of pounds. Like they said in a movie once, "I'm one stomach virus away from my ideal weight!"
So cough, cough, achoo! I hope to have a better report in my next entry.
Eric Out.
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