Sick Day

I was a pretty sickly kid.  In my memories, I was always running around with some kind of colds, and the flus I caught caused my parents a lot of anxiety.

I ALWAYS got sick around Christmas.  When truly ill, I never wanted to eat.  One of my herb books says fasting like that is a good thing.  I just slept a lot, bored when awake, and eventually better and back to school.

Happily, I seldom get sick now.  I attribute a lot of it to my diet and the rest to a boosted immune system, thanks to Lithium.  I had the flu in 2006; and a cold a year or two back, but that's it.

Why all the sick talk?  Well, I have a bladder infection.  Doc said it wasn't too bad as these things go.  I like to think I did a good job managing it.  Lots and lots of fluids.  No sugar.  Nothing too acidic.

Yesterday, I had to run some errands.  Last night a strange cat kept howling outside the door.  I finally got up.  As I was taking the weatherstripping out of the front door, I thought, "I'm going to open this door, and some monster - NOT a cat - is going to eat my face!"  I did it anyway.  Sure enough, a gray and white tabby - pretty well fed.  I yelled at it and waved the broom.  It took off.  Later on, around 5 AM, it came back.  This time Bubba made all the racket, looking out the back door.  I opened the door and told Bubba to "sic 'em".  He chased it off; I haven't seen it again.

Bubba wants to be an only cat.  He's made that clear.  I'll respect that.

Bubba isn't just a pet, he's my buddy, and Ron's, too.  I wouldn't bring another husband into my home any more than I would bring another cat.  It would upset Bubba.

My job is making the cat happy.  He says I do a good job.  [grin]  He's been really cute sleeping with me the last couple days.  He's not a cuddler, but he will sleep near me, in the bed.

When I got up around 6 I took it easy.  I've read a few inspirational romance novels.  I'm about done, there.  I had a good long nap.  Took my antibiotic, mood-stabilizer, antidepressant, vitamins, antipsychotic, and urinary pain reliever.  I didn't die.

My poor liver.

Tomorrow, back to work.