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28 April 2006 — Convalescing (11)

I was moaning to Kris this morning about how awful I feel. "You should sit outside, get some fresh air," she said. While I can't say that following her advice has helped me physically, it's made a world of difference mentally.

The sun is shining. The birds and the bugs are flitting to and fro. (There are so many insects in flight that the air looks like a thriving insect metropolis.) Everything is green. A warm breeze brings cherry blossoms from the far corner of the yard. The grass is quite tall — I tell myself that perhaps I will mow it tomorrow. The goddamn flicker is still chirp-chirp-chirping, as it has been without ceasing for the past three days. (Kris thinks it must be mating season.) Jays swoop and squawk.


I doze a little. I read a little in The Annotated Anne of Green Gables. When all three cats come to visit at once, I pet each in turn.

I get up and go search for Kris. I find her sitting in the yard, facing her flower beds, as if she were a Queen, and the roses and tulips and herbs her loyal subjects.


"What are you thinking about?" I ask.

"Just flowers and colors and birds and stuff," she says. "I saw two hummingbirds in the walnut: they were either mating or fighting, I couldn't tell."

Something rustles the irises. "Nemo," we say together. Nemo loves to hide in the irises. They make him feel stealthy.


I think I will spend the rest of the afternoon on the back porch, dozing, and reading, and writing. (With Toto on my lap, apparently, as she's just jumped up and demanded that I put the computer aside...)



Here's a recent photo of Simon. I took about twenty at this time, but this is the only one I saved. He kept flopping and rolling and twisting; he wouldn't sit still. I'm not even sure why I kept this one, but in retrospect, it's kind of fun:


On this day at foldedspace.org

2004Kind of Blue   In which a conversation with kids -- Harrison and Emma -- helps turn a blue day into a good one.

2003Bend Weekend 2003   In which we have returned from another fine trip to Sunriver.

2002Heresy   In which I enjoy my new wireless network; in which I rave about a computer game; in which I have many bad things to say about religion.


Comments
On 28 April 2006 (02:13 PM), J.D. said:

The kids next door are out playing. One of the younger children — four? five? — keeps shout, "Pirate Ad-VEN-ture!" It's pretty cute.


On 28 April 2006 (04:50 PM), J.D. Roth said:

Also: I cleverly re-used the picture of me on the porch for an entry about frugality in practice at Get Rich Slowly. Check it out.


On 28 April 2006 (06:42 PM), Jeff said:

Arghh! 101.4 degrees. Well at least my symptoms waited a few days to manifest themselves... we would have really been up a creek if this had happened at the same time. I guess I may have to brave the after hours clinic tomorrow if things haven't improved.

I think we've got Industrial Disease. :-)


On 28 April 2006 (07:43 PM), Mom said:

My condolences, Jeff. I was around you guys this week -- I wonder how I have managed to escape getting sick. J.D., I would rethink mowing the lawn; I will be concerned if you overdo and get sicker. How is your fever? And your throat and cough? You do know how to convalesce in style, though. :-)


On 28 April 2006 (07:50 PM), J.D. said:

Right. So, I tried a brief outing this afternoon to pick up pizza for Kris and comic books for me (of course), and though even that was a challenge, I still decided to try mowing the lawn, with the ultimate goal of rototilling the vegetable garden for Kris if things went well. Things did not go well. I felt like I was going to hack up a lung. I was in dire shape. I finished the front patch of lawn, and then slumped back here to the porch again where I have my laptop, my new comics, and a liter of water.

Isn't it fun to read about my illness? I'll bet you guys wish I would keep writing about this forever, huh?


On 28 April 2006 (08:16 PM), Mom said:

Well, you give a mother something to harp about. ;-) Your body needs rest when you are sick, especially with as high a fever as you've had. It kind of bothers me that they didn't x-ray, too, although maybe the doctor could tell you didn't have pneumonia from listening to your lungs. I suppose your antibiotics and vicodin will take care of any nasties in your lungs or bronchial tubes but you need to REST. (I know, that's BOR-ing, but you've gotta do it.)

Guess who has sore glands in the neck tonight? I am depending on my flu shot last fall to help me fight the bugs off. I was just down in the germy shop, though -- I should have taken down my Clorox cleaner and sprayed all the desks of you sick folks. I may do that yet tomorrow. They say phone receivers are the worst. If you smell Clorox when you get back to work, you'll know why. ;-)


On 28 April 2006 (11:39 PM), summer said:

a comment about one of your miscellaneous flotches: i watch bsg. i love bsg. but a show about pre-bsg? tis not a good idea. tis scifi cashing in on their money making show. and scifi is well known for their *great* ideas.


On 29 April 2006 (11:54 AM), Amy Jo said:

I'm sorry to hear (and see) that you are feeling so crappy. That isn't any fun at all, especially when the weather is as nice as it is. Tell Kris that I am jealous of her gardens--they always look many times nice than mine. I think I have a yellow thumb.


On 29 April 2006 (03:23 PM), Steph said:

I feel like a sitting duck waiting for the impending illness that you all are experiencing (Jeff, JD and Kris) Thank you Sue for any disinfecting treatments you do down at the shop. I've threatened to make Jeff wear gloves and a mask and carry a Lysol rag down to work!


On 29 April 2006 (03:32 PM), J.D. said:

This whole thing is like some sort of long nightmare, really.

My fever finally broke for good last night, it seems. But, my cough and sore throat are just as bad as ever, and my lungs are all gurgly. Yuck.

Perhaps worse, I cannot sleep and cannot eat. I basically just drowsed most of the night last night. I couldn't even do that until about two. I just lay there dreaming crazy dreams (one was completely in numbers!) for three hours, then got up again at five in a sort of daze. I ate a pizza pocket and a banana yesterday at about three, and that seemed to take a Herculean effort. I tried to eat some bread at about six, but didn't get much down. This morning I had one orange. About half an hour ago I tried to eat a can of bean with bacon soup -- something I normally down in no time -- but was full after just a few bites. I have no appetite.

I'm in some sort of hyper-sensistized state. "It's as if I'm in a dream world," I told Kris.

"Yeah, I know," she said, and then she went off to bed, where she's been for the last few hours. She's getting this stuff, too.

I had to run something over to Rhond and Mike's this afternoon. The drive was a challenge. "Look," said Mike, when I pulled up, "it's Typhoid J.D." Ha ha!

Stay away from the Roth-Gates!


On 29 April 2006 (06:44 PM), Mom said:

I wish I had more disinfecting agents around, Steph, such as Lysol, that I could spray in the air down at the shop to eliminate airborne germs. It might be worth a trip to the store in the morning to get some. We don't need people passing the flu bugs back and forth over and over again. A true nightmare!

I wonder if you're not partly having side effects to your medication, J.D. Did you check those out? I'm glad your temperature broke, at least. I'm sorry Kris is getting the stuff, too. Try hot and sour soup. I actually feel quite a bit better since I have eaten a pint of it.