I hate being sick. I am a huge whining baby when I'm sick. I have some sort of terrible head/chest/throat cold that is pissing me off. I can't breathe through my nose, my throat is ragged, so breathing through my mouth hurts, my cough sounds like I'm dying and the sinus pain. My god! I didn't know sinuses could be such little bitches. I hate those little snot-filled cavities with a burning hatred of a million hot suns.
I have hardly been able lift my head off the couch or bed for about two days. Today I can actually sit up for more than 10 minutes, so I think the worst is over. Poor Becca has done nothing but watch TV for days. She has been very good to me lately taking some nice, long naps. I think she has enjoyed me just sitting in the same room as her instead of frantically running around the house trying to get stuff done.
Instead, nothing has gotten done (unless John has done it). My goals have been to keep the used tissues from piling up in too grotesque a manner. Other than that, everything has gone to hell in a handbasket. Becca had instant oatmeal for dinner last night. I can't remember the last time I gave that girl a vegetable. The dog hair level on the carpets has reached Critical Mass. I did manage to change the sheets on our bed after John witnessed me sneezing right into them. Gross. I feel like I need to open all the windows and Lysol the entire place. I'll get right on that, after a long nap, of course.
Hospice files: P. goes home
9 hours ago