Ick

Sometimes, air is a precious commodity.  Sometimes, there's just not enough NyQuil in all the world.

It is possible to be so sick that you look at yourself in the mirror and think, "Good God."  I'm there right now.  I feel and look like death warmed over very, very lightly.

I got up this morning with every intention of "powering through it," using my world-famous stubborn and going to school regardless.  I rolled out of my bed at 5, managed not to bump into too many things on the way to the shower, and it was there that I hit my wall.  The water felt so good and moving around felt so wrong.  I had left things yesterday at a point where if I had to be out I could have a fair amount of peace of mind with that decision, so I sat down, made out a lesson plan (during which time I found yet another new level of appreciation for our new textbook), made the necessary calls and texts, walked my dogs, took some pills and went back to bed.

I was unconscious almost immediately, and I stayed that way until 10:30.  Since then, I've been supine and/or asleep on one surface or another most of the day.  I still feel like a truck hit me, but it's getting better.  Tomorrow, I must go back to school.  The stubborn must prevail.  One day to fight off this crap is something I'm proud to say I have grown enough to allow myself.  Two...well...I don't think I'm quite ready for two yet.