"To get a little exercise."
"But you're sick. You're supposed to rest. And drink plenty of fluids."
I've lost track of how much tea I've drunk in the last forty-eight hours. (I was still in denial on Wednesday, drinking diet Coke and pretending I'd be All Better on Thursday.) My tongue is burnt and my teeth feel coated in the residue of honey and cinnamon. I feel completely gross. "I think a little walk would help."
"You're supposed to rest. Besides, you don't know what a little walk is. You'll go for three miles or sixteen or something."
"I won't go for three miles." That's not a little walk; that's a regular walk-length walk. "Probably a mile." Maybe two. "I think some fresh air would do me good. Is it cold outside?"
"No, it's wonderful outside," he admited. "For this time of year it's great."
"I'm going for a walk."
I am walking now, creakily. I feel better now than I have for most of the last few days. I doped up on generic Nyquil last night and this morning; this morning when I woke at 6AM and thought "I need more Nyquil", I knew I wasn't going to work today either. I've slept about twelve hours of the last twenty-four.
My back hurts. Especially the small of my back, when I bend over, as if I'd strained something. "It's like a special little piece of cold virus has settled in my spine," I complained to John last night.
He paused. "It's probably not spinal meningitis."
"A type of cold virus that attacks the spine."
I laughed. "Great, it really does exist. Well, do you recover from it quickly?"
"No ... actually, it usually kills you in a couple of days. But it's really rare!"
Yeah, pretty sure that's not it.
I wrote the above last night. I'm still sick today, but getting a little better. Lut, bless him, bought me a coffee maker today so that I can make a pot of tea at a time and have it stay warm, instead of a cup at a time, for which I am profoundly grateful. And drinking Yet More Tea.
I went out for another slow creaky walk today. The weather really is lovely.
Maybe tomorrow I'll be healthy again. I'm going to try to post something in LJ this weekend that isn't about being sick. "2008, apparently, I spent ill, 'cause that's all I wrote about."