Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired

Written By: B.D. Butler - Apr• 30•12

That fateful moment arrived over a week ago.  That moment when you finally have to admit that your sniffling is not allergies, and that weak feeling of achiness is indeed not spring fever.  Yep, you guessed it, the time has come for you to admit, “I’m sick dammit”.

I am not a pleasant sick person, and I am the type of person that when I get sick, though not often, but when it happens, I am down for the count.  The lovely moment came when we were out with a friend Debb who happened to be in town for the weekend.  A few hours and some cocktails later, I started to sound like Harvey Fierstein.  I had no choice but to admit it, and unfortunately everyone else around me started to comment on my voice.  It was then I insisted that I need to hit the pillow.

Click here for sick man.

The next morning, I really thought that death was coming, I really thought that it was the day that I would officially “pass away”.  I haven’t felt so crappy in a really long time.  Eric being the constant nurturer let me sleep in, uncovered the birds, and fed them their morning “Chop”.  I am in constant amazement how sensitive the birds are, and can sense when we don’t feel well.  They were very quiet, instead of their usual from the rafters “morning show”.  There was no garbage truck in reverse beep, no yelling and scolding at the dogs, nothing but pleasant silence.  I did get up, and talked to them for a minute or so, and gave them their favorite treats, dried bananas.  I made sure I let them know I was so appreciative of their ability to recognize my state of mind, and body.  Then it was off to bed…

As I stated before, I am NOT a pleasant sick person, in fact if there was a sharp object within reach, everyone runs the risk of getting cut.  It’s not intentional, I just want to be left along in my cave of Kleenex, and the lingering aroma of Vick’s Vaporub.

Click here for Mom.

I of course sometime in my fevered state sent my mother a text, and usually there would have been some sort of sentimental response.  Unfortunately that does not happen in my family, because my mother is a nurse, and I am an ex medic, so we have those direct and graphic medical conversations.

How are you feeling? – translated – What color is your mucus?

Sorry you have the sniffles – translated – You need to make sure you are taking an expectorant, so you have a productive cough.

I hope that you get better soon! – translated – You know if this lasts more than a week, it goes bacterial, and you will need antibiotics.

You should drink some hot tea for that tickle in your throat. – translated – I hope that it’s not strep, and you get it taken care of , cause it can travel into your heart.

Not quite what June Cleaver talked to the Beaver about when he had a cold.


Click here for Miracle Elixir.

Trying to write a blog when you are sick is not the easiest. You get a thought, and it takes hours to formulate the words and ideas.  I actually have two other posts that are sitting in the non-publish cue, because they read as I was inebriated when I wrote them.  In fact, thanks to NyQuil, they are just plain whacked out, and I fortunately will be deleting them.  After I re-read them and have another chuckle.

So… onward and upward, I am on the downward slope of this stupid cold, and hopefully will be back to full potential any day now.



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