Back from the dead

I have finally recovered from the worst cold/respiratory infection/brush with a phlegmy death of my entire life. I have a new appreciation for the ability to take deep, pain-free breaths, for antibiotics, and for a husband who literally will get out of bed at 2:30 in the morning just to get me a glass of water and will rub my back until I fall asleep again.

What started as a left over cough from a cold somehow blossomed (exploded?) into something fierce about a week ago. I will spare the gruesome details; let it suffice to say I thought I had pnuemonia. I couldn't take even shallow breaths without hearing and feeling wet pockets of air in my lungs respond. I was coughing night and day. I was dizzy when I stood up. I was feverish and couldn't stand the thought of eating. The concept of showering was even too much to handle.

Thanks to wonderful wonderful doctors (and even more wonderful brothers), and the wonderful wonderful world of drugs, and after 5 days of taking it easy (so easy I'm convinced any muscle I had is now as mushy as applesauce), I am now back to normal.

As luck would have it, right in the eye of the phlegmy storm, my brother Cameron was driving out from Utah for a visit. This had been in our plans for months. When he arrived, all I could do was sit on the couch and feebly wave and whisper. But he stuck it out like a pro, happy to just hang out when I wasn't feeling good. We still had ourselves a good time, and managed to squeeze in the movie "Unknown" along with a Cheese House sandwich and some Chipotle. True to form, and lazier than ever due to, you know, being ill, I didn't take many pictures. But he's a good brother and I'm so glad he was here to hang out with his sick sister.


Forcing the boys to take Airborne to avoid my fate


My Cheese House Sandwich


Self portrait: "On the very edge of life"


Cam and Harry took great care of me. Harry even made an amazing Thai beef soup with mint and cilantro and fresh ginger and grilled flank steak for me-- from scratch. There never was a luckier sick girl.

I'm not to the point where I should go running or hiking or even and excessive kind of jumping, but when I do, I will feel over the moon about it. Good health is such an enormous blessing! I really do have a new appreciation for it. I also really want to protect it-- fiercely-- from something like this happening ever again. I want to live on grapefruit and blueberries and kale and canteloupe and brown rice and broccoli and wheat germ and flax seed and string cheese and the occasional slab of butter, and get 9 hours of sleep a night, and do yoga an hour a day and run 5 miles after that. What I'm describing isn't really possible in my life right now. But I can dream.