I told you I was sick, I just decided I was too sick to go to see Doc Marvin until yesterday when I really felt sick and it was an $80 visit.
My thanks to Robbert for his brilliant job of blogsitting. I know I can always count on him to fill a space or should that be vvaaccuumm, there that takes care of how many letters in that idiot word.
Apparently I have two nasties battling it out for the pleasure of knocking me off and I'll find out on Tuesday when they've been cultured, as in petri dishes, not a dram of single malt and a reading of Tolstoy.
So I have tablets, take half an hour before food. Bwahahahaha says my stomach who relies on its own timeline of when food goes down. The name of medication is Norfloxacin and I am not looking it up, not after the last lot of antibiotics that came with 5 pages of side affects. The stickers on the side of the bottle tells me all.
"This medicine may affect mental alertness and/or coordination. If affected do not drive a motor vehicle or operate machinery"
"Avoid excessive skin exposure to sun and sunlamps while being treated with this medicine"
Great advice for someone who can fall over a draft sweeping across the carpet and is so mentally alert it takes me 10 minutes to recall what day it is when I wake up. As for the sun exposure, walking to the letter box should do me in, considering the square metres of skin keeping my innards from circling the earth.
I've only taken two tablets but already I feel much better and have stopped going to sleep every time I sit in a chair. Can't count the times I've come out of a coma trying to answer the tv remote instead of the phone. Today I felt well enough to put sheets and doona cover on the bed, that's just on the bed, not actually on the mattress or doona, maybe tomorrow. And since I'm not mentally alert, it doesn't matter because I can't remember the last time I changed them anyway. The best way to tell that is to watch the bedbugs hauling backpacks to a cleaner living body.
You want to know how sick I am? There's a litre of coffee ice cream in the freezer and it's been there for a week. I ran around like a crazy sick woman looking for a pair of knickers that didn't have holes in them just to see the Doc and found them all in the dryer and mentally I can't remember when I did
washing or what I'd been wearing. Explains the knicker incident on the way to the Home when the elastic died of old age.
Doc told me to stay home and rest for a few days. This might be due to the infection or his eye roll when I told him about stabbing myself in the foot with a pencil or my having pizza two days in a row in my food diary. My explanation that it is vegetarian and I eat half one day and half the next and to me it's just like having a hot salad sandwich two days in a row. Lordy, that man could eye roll for Australia.
So I get to stay home, read a book, make the bed and take time to figure out how I can disguise a litre of coffee ice cream as wholesome food. I could pretend the chocolate covered almonds are lentils except that brings back memories of the last time I ate lentils, I won't bore you with the gory details.
I'll go half and half with yoghurt and call it yoghurt dessert made from yoghurt and other stuff.
7 comments:
You eat your pizza the same way I do! Half for two days in a row means two days without actual cooking :D
Heating something up doesn't count as cooking.
Icecream is a dairy food, which is good for you.
Please get well quickly, so you can go shopping for new knickers. Another dead elastic incident doesn't sound like fun.
I am sorry to hear you got so sick, here I was thinking you were just too busy.
River, I like Bonds Cottontails or in my case Bonds elephantarse but try finding big sizes. Another set back is that they sew the elastic in the knickers so you can't just pull it out and replace. Everything in the name of profit.
Funny, now that I'm feeling better I realize how sick I was. Better didn't stop me from burning my new frying pan this morning.
sorry to hear you have been battling a malady, but as always, you do make it all sound like a jolly good wheeze. I hope for it to pass swiftly.
I loved Julie McCrossin for one of her routines where she discussed bloomers and her size in Bottomtails "I buy them in black size 16 ... once you've had big and black you don't want anything else". she knows tiny lacy knickers are UNCOMFORTABLE and life is too short for that.
more power to you dear Coppy.
Big thing!
You're eating everything!
That's what the birdies sing,
Big thing!
A poet never dies. On all the headstones of humanity you may view his works.
A poet never dies, in the nuclear holocaust to come the creatures to survive will be estate agents and cockroaches. Poets too.
-Robert.
Annie O, tiny lace knickers also cost teh bomb. The way I tend to fall over I need loads of cover so as not to frighten the horses. I read a good article the other day about why we shouldn't feel we have to wear bras, I agree. Get blokes to wear underwire Y fronts for a week and they would be screaming.
Robbert, my mother will trample estate agents into the muck and make friends with the cockroaches. That woman has another dose of lung rot and is still going.
Lets hope she knows the agents from the cockroaches, the main difference is the agents wear ties.
When sewn in elastic dies, just fold it over to make a hem, stitch, then thread through your new elastic.
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