Last weekend, I ended on the sour note of my furry friends having diarrhea. The treatment for The Puppy included giving her Pedialyte, but being a connoisseur of all things in a bowl, The Fluffy One drank some. Do you know you can develop diarrhea if you don't already have it when you drink Pedialyte? YES.
Now that we have the gastric disturbances settled, I can get back to just dropping the names of movies I've seen.
The Number 23...on 2/3. OMG. And you know what? My birthday is the 23rd. OF JUNE. 2x3! Okay, I'll stop now. It was good, really.
Just about every single thing I've done since October caught up with me and I managed to get a record breaking flare that took my voice, made my backhair turn into hot knives and even showed the rest of the world I was really sick in the form of a 102° fever. Now that I'm not dead from it I can say I like when I have visible symptoms. I mean more visible than falling on the floor, because that's never taken the right way.
Super Bowl XLII came and went, and we just happened to tune in at the exact moment the Patriots scored those 7 points. This was followed by a trailer for Wanted, and so I had a good Super Bowl. Then we switched to Puppy Bowl and the European figure skating championships. What? I'm a girl!
On Monday, I continued to be sick. I mailed my Uncle Gene a couple of pages of my comic strip because he wasn't feeling at all well and I was trying to make him as happy as he can make me. No, really, Uncle Gene has been known to make me laugh during funerals and surgery.
While I was busy being sick, Emmis Communications decided to change the format of the last different radio station, the smooth jazz station Pa and I used to listen to while we played pool. Now the station sounds like it wants to be three other stations at once.
The rest of my week was just a blur of high-grade fevers and inability to speak, or walk for more than two feet, or speak, or talk, and as of writing this I still don't have my voice back, and while you would think I'd be amused by the things people do when I can't tell them to stop, for some reason the humor is lost on me.
Saturday morning my Uncle Gene died. I would rather he was still alive, watching sports with Pa, like they did in the '80s. Maybe they are. Maybe it's me who's missing out on all the fun.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
The Strangest Week In Review Yet.
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4 comments:
I feel your pet diarrhea pain. Glad you all got through it. Sorry to hear about your Uncle Gene. Relatives who make us laugh will always be too few in this world.
Thanks, Ari.
I'm sorry your Uncle Gene died. :-( And I hope the sickiness in da house clears up soon!
Thanks, RH. *hugs*
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