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Back among the living
Mar. 13th, 2011 06:38 amThe question I kept asking myself on Friday was, How on earth does anybody even manage to go to work or do something similarly stupid when they've got a fever? All I could do while oscillating between 38.4 and 38.8 was sleep and crawl very slowly to the kitchen to make another cup of tea. The fever beast stayed with me for almost 24 hours, which was probably a very good thing -- even though physically tiring -- because the virus got more or less killed, i.e. all that remained was a bit of a cough and a runny nose. Cough is receding due to ruthless application of steroid inhaler (the last thing you need when you've got asthma is bronchitis), and stuffy sinuses got the ice cube treatment.
The weather was absolutely splendid yesterday, and so every ounce of common sense was needed to fight the urge to go running or hiking. But it would have been a very stupid thing to do -- I' not getting any younger, and the heart had been working overtime on Friday. So I stayed in, reading and watching The Office on DVD, cuddling ze boyz and Lola. (Poor Lola, she didn't get much entertainment out of me on Friday. I just managed to give her food and change her water, then collapsed on the couch and slept. Well, at least I was there.)
Tennis today. I'll have to eat something before playing, though, because the grand total of what I've eaten during the last two days was less than what I usually have for dinner. So maybe one or two slices of toast with orange jam. And I'll be careful not to overdo it today -- when I'm feeling tired we'll just make a break. Elena used to be a professional player, so she knows the dangers and certainly won't force anything.
Poor boss still wasn't much better on Friday. That bronchitis-cum-angina is a tough beast indeed, antibiotics notwithstanding. Since Irene had written me a text message in the morning, telling me that he'd gone to some wreath-laying thing (probably still in connection with the Holocaust Memorial opening), to which he'd originally intended to send me I called him in the afternoon to see how he was and say sorry for letting him down.
Boss: Don't be silly. It had to be done, and I got it over with, and that's that.
Me (whiny, because fever always makes me emotional): Yes, but...but... You're in such a bad shape, and I wish...
Boss: Stop it already, and rather tell me if there's anything I can do for you. Anything you need?
Me: No, I'm fine. I mean, fine considerig the circumstances. Are you at least going home soon?
Boss: Yes, soon. Oliver is here. (That's the organizer of the Viennese Ball)
Me: Oh, that reminds me, I had this idea today, you could invite our doctor of confidence to the ball.
Boss, audibly stunned: Excellent idea. Wow. I mean, there you are, in the throes of a fever, and you still have good ideas. Or did your team of doctors suggest it? (Meaning ze boyz)
Me: Nah, but I kept having those strange, repetitive fever dreams about the ball, and somehow the bit about the doctor being there seems to have stuck.
Boss: Well, great idea. I'll ask him right away. And just for the record: I was worrying about you but didn't want to call you in case you were asleep.
He's wonderful, that's what he is. And I hope he's getting better over the weekend. Still, I also hope he's learned his lesson, that going to work when you're sick isn't just bad for you but also for your staff, who may catch the stupid virus. Ana got it, too, BTW. She called me on Friday morning, to report she was sick, and described the exact same symptoms (dry cough, aching limbs, high fever). Let's see how quickly she's getting/got over it.
OK, I think I'll do another round of sleep. Alarm for 8.30,that should be ok.
The weather was absolutely splendid yesterday, and so every ounce of common sense was needed to fight the urge to go running or hiking. But it would have been a very stupid thing to do -- I' not getting any younger, and the heart had been working overtime on Friday. So I stayed in, reading and watching The Office on DVD, cuddling ze boyz and Lola. (Poor Lola, she didn't get much entertainment out of me on Friday. I just managed to give her food and change her water, then collapsed on the couch and slept. Well, at least I was there.)
Tennis today. I'll have to eat something before playing, though, because the grand total of what I've eaten during the last two days was less than what I usually have for dinner. So maybe one or two slices of toast with orange jam. And I'll be careful not to overdo it today -- when I'm feeling tired we'll just make a break. Elena used to be a professional player, so she knows the dangers and certainly won't force anything.
Poor boss still wasn't much better on Friday. That bronchitis-cum-angina is a tough beast indeed, antibiotics notwithstanding. Since Irene had written me a text message in the morning, telling me that he'd gone to some wreath-laying thing (probably still in connection with the Holocaust Memorial opening), to which he'd originally intended to send me I called him in the afternoon to see how he was and say sorry for letting him down.
Boss: Don't be silly. It had to be done, and I got it over with, and that's that.
Me (whiny, because fever always makes me emotional): Yes, but...but... You're in such a bad shape, and I wish...
Boss: Stop it already, and rather tell me if there's anything I can do for you. Anything you need?
Me: No, I'm fine. I mean, fine considerig the circumstances. Are you at least going home soon?
Boss: Yes, soon. Oliver is here. (That's the organizer of the Viennese Ball)
Me: Oh, that reminds me, I had this idea today, you could invite our doctor of confidence to the ball.
Boss, audibly stunned: Excellent idea. Wow. I mean, there you are, in the throes of a fever, and you still have good ideas. Or did your team of doctors suggest it? (Meaning ze boyz)
Me: Nah, but I kept having those strange, repetitive fever dreams about the ball, and somehow the bit about the doctor being there seems to have stuck.
Boss: Well, great idea. I'll ask him right away. And just for the record: I was worrying about you but didn't want to call you in case you were asleep.
He's wonderful, that's what he is. And I hope he's getting better over the weekend. Still, I also hope he's learned his lesson, that going to work when you're sick isn't just bad for you but also for your staff, who may catch the stupid virus. Ana got it, too, BTW. She called me on Friday morning, to report she was sick, and described the exact same symptoms (dry cough, aching limbs, high fever). Let's see how quickly she's getting/got over it.
OK, I think I'll do another round of sleep. Alarm for 8.30,that should be ok.
