what started as a simple ski trip was destined to turn into a tale of woe and gnashing of teeth. yep. that's how they get ya'. first they put you on top of a mountain, ready to ski-plow your way down a cliff-face and then the hand of the almighty stands poised to smite you!! oh, not in the traditional way, mind you. the slopes were traversed, the bunny hills conquered - but not without the proverbial pound of flesh to be offered.
a recap: by friday evening, as those around me drank beer and recounted the hilarities of a day gone past, i sat huddled in a cheap, acrylic blanket, teeth chattering, bones assuredly jostling in their sockets, and rapidly rotating waves of of brimstone heat and iceberg cool undulating down my spine. followed by 5 nights of lucid nightmares, inopportune bathroom runs, and several hours of, gasp, reality television (oh the HUMANITY!!!) to ward off the accompanying boredom and misery and the overwhelming sensation that every time my head lurched from one side to the next, the contents of my stomach were sure to follow.
Blecch.
So. Day Number Five. and i am able to turn my head at will, speak in full sentences, and, well, even if those sentences are punctuated by guttural, scraping coughs that sound like the emptying of an ancient garbage disposal - so be it. i'm scrappin' my way outta' this germ-imposed purgatory and headin' for the hills. perhaps profounder words than mine have been iterated on the subject of man's itinerant grasp on health and the battle with his own mortal form, but i'll say this...
Being.Sick.Sucks.
