I now know why the doctor asked me if I needed a note for work.  Holy crap, these meds knock me ass over tin cups.  I struggle to keep my eyes open for more than five minutes.  I have nine more days to go on them. 

     Let’s see, that could mean nine days of sporadic and silly posts.  It could mean nine days of gibberish.  Gee, I like that word.  Gibberish, it sounds more interesting than rubbish or twaddle.

     You would think that with all the wonderful fresh vegetables and fruits my family plied me with while I was up there visiting that I’d have been bursting at the seams with great health.  There’s nothing like fresh cauliflower, carrots, zucchini, watermelon, red raspberries, and blueberries freshly picked.  I picked a quart of blueberries Sunday afternoon, packed it in the back of the van, and one of the cousins stashed a couple of large zucchinis in there too.

     Now, I’m going to go back to sleep.

     Here it was, our 36^th wedding anniversary and what did we do?  Nothing.  I was too sick to do anything other than sleep.

     I should’ve called and made an appointment to see the doctor.  I had no idea it would be so busy there today.  I sat in the waiting room for two hours, which is the longest I’ve ever had to wait as a walk in.  I was quickly diagnosed with pharyingitis, laryngitis, and bronchitis.  Oh joy. 

     The nurse came in and gave me a shot.  I was handed two prescriptions and sent on my merry way.  Truly not so merry since I’m feeling miserable.  Dear Hubby is a doll he kept getting me things to drink when I’d become conscious.  The cough medicine and the antibiotic are both taken once every twelve hours.  They are kicking my ass. 

     They told me if don’t feel better in three days I should go back.  As it is, I feel as though there’s an elephant on my chest and I have a throat full of feathers.  They are tickling me into coughing fits.

     We will celebrate our anniversary AFTER I get through this nasty crap.