Metal Meredith

No joke. I am not doing so well. In seeing how wonderful of a host I can be, an unknown virus has taken up residency.

I have been in bed from 2pm on Friday until this afternoon, when I boldly decided I could take no more and have been in the family living area for a good 4 hours.

Our local Patient First declared it not the Flu, not Strep, and not pink eye. However, it seems to be some ultra-virus that wants me to feel the pain of all 3. Here I sit with 2 bloodshot and puffy eyes that water all hours of the day and night and get crusty on the off chance that I am allowed to sleep for more than 20 minutes at a time. My nose cannot decide whether to run, clog or feel dry as a bone. My throat is in the process of slowly turning from a pit of firey glass to that of a boa constrictor in mucle tension and ache.

Had enough? How about not giving my brain the 15 minutes I need a night to quiet down and burn out before shutting itself off and allowing me to sleep. Nope, not gonna happen. This will be night 3 where I wake up at least once an hour (my max has been 30 times and yes, I counted all of those).

I know I am whining. I know I am complaining. I haven’t felt this bad in a long, long time. (I am thinking 1990-ish and my one week bought with Chicken Pox). I assume at this point there is no where to go but ‘better’, you know?