So much to tell.
I thought I had it.
Last Sunday my grad school friend FaceTimed me so her precious 2 year old could see sweet pea. He loves to see her. It makes me love him even more than I would have.
And I’ve been thinking for months that I should make a dog counting book using sweet pea and all of her dog friends. So I’ve been photographing everyone. But I never made the book. I was so filled with joy after seeing him that I kept up and ran to the computer to do some editing. Then I made some soup for dinner and while it was simmering away I did a bit more editing. I was on a high.
Then I got up to serve dinner and realized I shivering. Violently. Uncontrollably. So ran upstairs and grabbed a thermometer. 100.1. I called out instructions to Josh. I wondered if they should eat the food I had just prepared. I weighed the danger of takeout versus the chance of me actually having IT. I didn’t know. They ate the soup. They weren’t afraid of me. Wondering if my throat hurt. I texted Josh about the garbage. I told him to Put the leftovers in the fridge. Do I have sharp pain in my chest or am I having an anxiety attack? Did you feed the few dog? Wait. Did I cough before? Are the doors locked? 99.9. Scanning head to toe for the symptoms I can’t find. Are the lights out? Mind racing. Confused. Other than the shakes I don’t feel anything. But this bump. Painful bump.
99.7 shaking stops. I’m awake. I’m alert. I look around. Am I in the eye of the hurricane? I get up. The bump. It hurts. I look. It’s red.
It’s infected.
I’m so much more happy about not IT than what’s there. Infection. But is it? So I stay in my room. And I’m not coming out until I know it’s not IT. But it isn’t it because the bump is resolving and the fever is gone. So I come out. And I’m still so happy and I sit down in front of the computer and I start editing dogs.
Sent from my iPhone
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