Oh, For the Love of All That Is Good

We arrived back in AZ Tuesday last, a week ago. What with not having what Bill has taken to calling the jamulator (meaning the cannula inserter which absence resulted in him having to jam needles into his legs by hand) and me promptly getting a cold, it hasn’t been exactly a relaxing experience.

Still, when I heard that snow was falling on the cities of Colorado’s front range, I will admit to sighing a bit in relief that we didn’t have to shovel said snow. That task was left for Maggie Faith, who has agreed to be responsible for snow removal in our absence. I assure you she will be duly compensated. Despite her small stature, she is strong. As stated by Shakespeare: though she be but little, she is fierce…..

Back to my cold, which I’m sure you’re all waiting with baited breath about which to be enlightened. I get one cold a year or so. While a cold will knock Bill off his feet, I’m generally liable to not let a little bit of snot stop me. Oh, for the love of all that is good, it’s just a cold, I will say.

Except this one has been the Cold From Hell. Perhaps God is providing a bit of lesson on humility, reminding me that anytime my sentence starts with Oh, for the love of all that is good, I should stop right there. The last time I had a cold this bad was just before, during, and following my 50th birthday. That was 15 years ago, my friends. I caught that particular cold on an airplane upon which we were returning from a Thanksgiving trip to London and my seat was directly in front of a man with a cold who coughed and sneezed on me for eight hours. No hard feelings, Mister. Not much you can do when you’re stuck in a tin can with a cold.

That year my family gave me a birthday party featuring a turducken. I was sick as hell. Included with my dreadful cold was a delightful case of pink eye. We took this photo of my sibs and my dad and me, and you might notice that my left eye is practically fully closed…..

You might also notice that it’s the bluest photo I’ve ever seen. There’s so much denim that it looks like it’s 1995 and we’re all getting ready to go to a Britney Spears concert. (Except they wouldn’t have let me in with my pink eye. Even my family shoved me to the back of the couch.)

At any rate, my cold has finally improved, and I’m going to make it even better because as I write this post on Monday, I am preparing to leave to meet my sisters at Pho Chandler which serves up some of the best hot noodles and spicy broth you’ve ever tasted…..

 

Take that, Cold!

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