For some reason, I'm really apt to catching head-colds and upper-respiratory infections (blame it on the chronic asthma). And I'm so used to not feeling "up to myself" a few times out of the month.
But dayumn.
Sinus Headaches; my fever is 102 and none of the home-remedies seem to break it.
(I said all of that to say)...
I'm stuck on my couch, head pounding like Mike Tyson, going through Kleenex like hell, when Rob sends me a text. Asks me how I'm feeling (I've quarantined myself from the rest of modern society until further notice). It's been about 3 days now since we were last together and other than me draaagggiiinnnnggggg my ass to Bible Study on Wednesday, I haven't been any further than the shower and the kitchen.
So I text him back: "eh, kinda. Granny made me some Chicken Soup with Stars so now I'm just chillin"...
Rob: "I'm at Krogers getting a care-package together; can't let Gran-Gran outshine me ;)"
--sighs--
By the time I woke up and read that text, he was already knocking at the door. His crazy ass gave me a peck on the lips and I'm like "okay... if you get sick..."
You know how you never notice the mess you've made until someone else comes over? Yeah. I start grabbing balled up tissues and sweeping up Cracker crumbs from the couch... All bad. Can't let my baby catch me slippin' like that again.
(lemme rap this up; these Tylenol PM's are kicking in)...
I took a steamy shower, popped the last pill in my Z-Pack (an antibiotic for the upper-respiratory infection) and I look up to find Rob still sitting on the couch. (and my headache is giving me HELL).
He made my bed; laid me down, rubbed some Vicks Vapor Rub on my feet and put socks on them.
"My not help the headache, but keep rubbing this on your feet and KEEP your socks on; you'll open up after a while".
He puts the back of his hand onto my forehead and jumps back like he touched a hot skillet. Cheezy, but cute.
As he walks out the door, he tells me: "you gotta AT LEAST be running 103; if you're not feeling any better by the end of tonight, I'm dragging yo ass to the E.R.".
(fast-forward).
Just now, he sent me a text message of the Heat Mizer with a bunch of ???? underneath.
Lmao, I get it, I get it! Even on my sick-bed, he can make me laugh.
I text him back that I'm feeling a bit better (obviously, I'm writing this post, right?)
He responds: "k; I'm gonna call u in the A.M. Let me know if anything changes".
I text back: "...what a lovely way to burn..."
--Cogito
Capricornaries@hotmail.com
(no pics tonight. Sue me; I'm sick!)
But not too sick to listen to Down in Mexico by The Coasters (my gift to you): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kahp_kmOFzQ
But dayumn.
Sinus Headaches; my fever is 102 and none of the home-remedies seem to break it.
(I said all of that to say)...
I'm stuck on my couch, head pounding like Mike Tyson, going through Kleenex like hell, when Rob sends me a text. Asks me how I'm feeling (I've quarantined myself from the rest of modern society until further notice). It's been about 3 days now since we were last together and other than me draaagggiiinnnnggggg my ass to Bible Study on Wednesday, I haven't been any further than the shower and the kitchen.
So I text him back: "eh, kinda. Granny made me some Chicken Soup with Stars so now I'm just chillin"...
Rob: "I'm at Krogers getting a care-package together; can't let Gran-Gran outshine me ;)"
--sighs--
By the time I woke up and read that text, he was already knocking at the door. His crazy ass gave me a peck on the lips and I'm like "okay... if you get sick..."
You know how you never notice the mess you've made until someone else comes over? Yeah. I start grabbing balled up tissues and sweeping up Cracker crumbs from the couch... All bad. Can't let my baby catch me slippin' like that again.
(lemme rap this up; these Tylenol PM's are kicking in)...
I took a steamy shower, popped the last pill in my Z-Pack (an antibiotic for the upper-respiratory infection) and I look up to find Rob still sitting on the couch. (and my headache is giving me HELL).
He made my bed; laid me down, rubbed some Vicks Vapor Rub on my feet and put socks on them.
"My not help the headache, but keep rubbing this on your feet and KEEP your socks on; you'll open up after a while".
He puts the back of his hand onto my forehead and jumps back like he touched a hot skillet. Cheezy, but cute.
As he walks out the door, he tells me: "you gotta AT LEAST be running 103; if you're not feeling any better by the end of tonight, I'm dragging yo ass to the E.R.".
(fast-forward).
Just now, he sent me a text message of the Heat Mizer with a bunch of ???? underneath.
Lmao, I get it, I get it! Even on my sick-bed, he can make me laugh.
I text him back that I'm feeling a bit better (obviously, I'm writing this post, right?)
He responds: "k; I'm gonna call u in the A.M. Let me know if anything changes".
I text back: "...what a lovely way to burn..."
--Cogito
Capricornaries@hotmail.com
(no pics tonight. Sue me; I'm sick!)
But not too sick to listen to Down in Mexico by The Coasters (my gift to you): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kahp_kmOFzQ
Kindred souls....I swear. I think I pay my family doctor's mortgage with my sinus/allergies/sinus infections. I'm going through one right now. On antibiotics and some shit called dallergy. That with the over-the-counter shit I'm taking has me fucked up...guess thats why I'm up at 4:30 AM
ReplyDeleteGet better buddy!