|I wish it were my robot double dealing with all this BS cold|
Well, yesterday was the part of being sick where you just sit and sweat and try to understand what other people are saying to you and answer in monosyllabic grunts or head movements. Which meant I had a crazy, sweaty night in which I dreamed I was an astronaut in the 1960's. Or I think it was the 1960's, because we came down in a capsule. Anyway, I had a swank, swank pad at the top of a hotel, which seems right.
Fever dreams are the absolute best dreams.
All I have to say today is: Thank Jebus for antibiotics.
I did manage to go to the doctor yesterday since I'd been running a fever for a couple of days straight. I am now enantiboticked, and today I feel much, much better, which is an upgrade from "you know, being dead sounds not half bad right now".
Through all this, Jamie has been an absolute hero. She's not complained once about my hacking, sneezing or various methods for discharging the seeming endless globs that my body is making. She's fed me. Brought me glass after glass of water and ginger ale. She's checked on me at night. Nor has she complained when I watched Superman III. She's been a trooper, and I appreciate it.