So when I awoke Thursday, if you can call it that, to a fever and wracked with pain, my darling son and younger daughter announced they were taking over for the day, "go back to bed mama." I fussed around the kitchen for a minute, slightly worried when Aragorn asked whether the fast food restaurant down the road took cash, and gave in when it was clear I was not a help.
I slept for hours, so grateful for my bed, my comforter, the guilty quiet of kids watching tv. Then, for some reason, I decided that I would feel better and become functional if I washed my hair and cleaned up and got dressed. This can be true, in most situations. On that day, for me, it is doubtful whether it made a difference at all. The next step is what continues to amaze and befuddle me. Without any memory of it, I must have decided I needed to remove unwanted leg fuzz. In any case, the next morning, feeling clearer, after a day and night resting, I took a bath, and there discovered the battle scars of the previous day's attempts to shave. For Pete's sake, I could have bled myself to death! Visions of Medieval physicians "releasing toxins" through bleeding come to mind...
Moral of the story: never mind, I already told you in the title. I am glad that I did not try to write a blog post that day. Happy to be back among the living, breathing and logical. And thank you to my children and husband who contributed to the house being held together while I mended. Thank you too, to the two good friends who dropped by with DVDs to keep the kids busy.
Good grief, what were you doing with a razor whilst in the throes or fever? I am glad you are better, now let the stubble grow over the scabs and then shave when it's safe! My husband is used to me going 'Native' or should I say 'European' in winter. LOL
ReplyDelete