We are such a wuss when it comes to physical health, but at the same time only severe pain is enough to drive us to see a doctor. Following the ‘caring is sharing’ philosophy, our daughter has kindly shared her germs with us, and we spent yesterday attempting to cough up a lung.
Being asthmatic, colds go straight to my chest and knock us off our feet. But we delayed Monday’s housework so that had to be done first – if we’re going to die then we’ll do it in a clean and tidy house. By mid afternoon we were exhausted, but lying down just made our breathing worse.
All was not lost, however, as we stumbled across Amazon Prime Music and spent a happy hour singing along at full volume to some of our favourite songs. When our voice gave up we took to whistling – I have a piercing whistle – which we’re sure made the neighbours really happy. It certainly cheered me up.
Now, however, we are back to dying again – loudly. Inhalers have been increased, Flu Plus tablets have been taken, and the sofa is our death bed. Our CPN is here later, assuming we’re still alive. Til then, we’ll be practicing our last words in between crawling to the kettle for much needed tea.