Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Streaks of gold on a dreary day
You need to know: the drear is all me. I have been diagnosed with chronic bronchitis. I had struggled with breathing, coughing incessantly and feeling completely discombobulated in the past week and finally went to the place of last resort - for me, the doctor's, yesterday. I should clarify: I haven't smoked in over 20 years.
She said to me: you have the lungs of a 2 pack-a-day woman at the moment. Is this karma, I ask her. No, she said, but a chronic infection built up over a series of bad colds that you neglected?
I'm not the type to run to the doctor with colds, I would feel whiney and whingey and downright hypochondriacky. I say this to her. More fool you, was the crisp response, now look at you!
So I'm on a course of medication and cancelled a lot of appointments to get some rest (Why do I think bed rest is for sissies? Why?)
Then I get all chuffed up to find my short story of a week ago is up at The Elder Story Telling Place
This plus my piece on the innocence of girl children being stolen being up at Shakesville a week ago has cheered me up immeasurably.