Penny spent the weekend recovering from being sick - she was mostly better, but has a bit of a lingering cough, and her appetite is still a little suppressed (though she ate more at breakfast Saturday than she'd eaten on Thursday and Friday put together).

Unfortunately, I got sick. I woke up Saturday morning with a thick feeling in my throat, and a bit of a cough to go with it. Don't panic, I thought, it might not mean anything.

But by Saturday evening, I had a persistent headache and the sensation that my sinuses were expanding like a balloon. Sunday morning, the headache had turned into all-over aches, and the sinuses hadn't deflated a bit.

Theraflu, it might be noted, tastes quite disgusting if you let it get any cooler than scalding, even with a generous dollop of honey in the mug. But it does its job - which is to say, it got me so high I didn't care about the cough anymore.

I'd say it didn't do much of anything to relieve my symptoms, except that we were at my parents' for dinner at about 5:30 or so when it wore off, and I was rather suddenly quite miserable, so I guess it was doing something to mute the aches and such.

I was sure I'd developed a fever, too, because I was shivering, but when we got home, the thermometer admitted to no more than a low-grade. I gulped down another cup of Theraflu and went to bed before 9.

This morning I still have no fever, which is good because we have a major delivery at work today, so I can't afford to be out. If I do spike a fever, or if I'm still coughing and miserable on Wednesday, I'll call my doctor. If only because Penny had bronchitis, and it turns out that the cough my sister-in-law had all through Christmas was bronchitis, too. Whee...

I wonder if anyone would get the joke if I taped a plague mark to my office door?

--Liz