I hate being sick-show me someone who likes it and I’ll show you a first grader trying to get out of a spelling bee. And I hate taking medicine. Taking medication is almost like admitting defeat to me-plus, it usually leaves me very wigged out-tired, dizzy and nauseous.
So, I do everything that I can naturally before I start to pop those pills–hot baths, eating foods like blueberries and oranges, steam inhalation, chiropractic adjustments and prayer (usually with a lot of begging involved).
But, when the coughing, hacking, mucus, and muscle aches get to be too much for me to just “tough it out”, I wave the white flag and call my doctor. His first question is usually, “WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL ME SOONER?!”, and I make up some lame excuse that we both know he’s not buying.
Due to some unknown infectious carrier that contaminated my otherwise holy immune system, these four items have been my BFF’s for the last week. (Well, these, my bed, hulu and my favorite yellow Ponca City t-shirt.)
The one upside to being sick is the amazing amount of clout that I have to eat my favorite snacky foods. Biceps runs to the store at the drop of a hat, so carefully I make my requests known all at once.
This is one of my favorites when my throat is scratchy and stomach is upset. My mother instilled in me that this was a miracle food (it’s not) and that it’s good for me (it’s not). But, it does make me feel better…
I am on the upswing of whatever it was that I had, and I lovingly shared this infectious nastiness with Biceps. He is in the final days of recovery himself. The weird thing is, he never needs any “treats”. He wants to eat oatmeal, oranges and drink healthy smoothies. Doesn’t he realize this is his one chance to get out of the guilt associated with aforementioned treats? Geesh. Men….