Blog No. 206
I work up on Sunday morning and knew something wasn’t right. My weekend had been the culmination of two solid weeks of work (no time off for good behaviour, or writing). Lots of terrible thing happened that had no choice but to be dealt with. Friday night was seven hours of crap that stuck to me through Saturday morning for my back-to-back shifts. While I managed to get a solid chunk of text written Friday morning, nothing was getting done on Saturday. As soon as I got home from my thankfully easier shift (minus having to mop the floors as the cleaners failed to do for the umpteenth time) I took a much needed nap and prepped all my stuff for Sundays RetroRama. No time for love Doctor Jones. I did my best to get to bed early Saturday night, knowing what was in store for me.
My alarm was set for eight in the morning, more than enough time to load the car, stop for a breakfast (a treat I’d been looking forward to for days), get to the venue, and set up. It was raining when I got there, another sign of what was to come. The discomfort was all in my sinuses. I’ve dealt with it before and found that most of the time, lots of fluids and rest can nip the rest of it in the bud. As soon as I got my things into the hall, I had a feeling that this one was going to get me. It was cunning. It knew when to strike and it was going to get me with ruthless vengeance. Two weeks, fourteen days, and not a single day off. I should clarify that not all those days were the kind of nightmare drag that Friday night was, but sustaining myself for that long was enough to lower my defenses. The uncommon cold got me.
Since my illness, I’ve had to be more curious about catching things. Most of the time, I can live a normal life, but I am more susceptible to the things that circulate through the population. I’ve also been advised to not get the flu shot. The deck is staked against me, so I have to be more vigilant than most. I have trained myself to not touch my face as much (a habit I struggle with eternally) and I wash my hands no less that thirty times a day. Usually these things are enough to keep me clear of most sicknesses, but a couple always get though each year. When I do catch something, I act fast. Fluids (including lots of decaf tea) and rest. I re-manage my pills and do as little as possible. I go to bed early, I get up as late as possible. Usually, when things aren’t too bad, it’s a good time to do some reading. With luck, I’m better in a few days and skip the worst of it.
This time, my strategy was the same. Unfortunately, I was stuck at RetroRama all Sunday (it was a longer day than necessary). It wouldn’t have been so bad, but sales were slow and the freak show that performed directly behind us several times that day (I think five or six, but it’s hard to keep straight in my sickened, addled mind) was both annoying and drew the few people there away from us. Some rushed over to witness such feats as, a guy being tased, indoor knife throwing (directed towards the main entrance) and hanging heavy things from hooks in a person’s body. I get that it was Halloween, but the loud crack of the cattle prod they used (and randomly set off through out the day) was more than enough to hinder sales.
Annoyance and stress was added to my long day. By the time I got home, it was too late. I was fully sick. There was no nipping this one in the bud. I went to bed early and hoped my Monday off would be spent recovering with a book, but in bed I stayed well into the afternoon. By the time I got up, I was a zombie (and not for Halloween). No writing was done for the third day in a row, and I failed my goal for the month. with approximately 9000 words written, I started November at 58 000 and change. I felt much better on Tuesday. My Monday efforts brought the severity down to common cold levels. I’m over the worst of it now, but I hate that I came so close and failed yet again. I know the cold isn’t entirely to blame, but it certainly didn’t help.