The cold I was developing on Thursday became fully fledged on the weekend. My eyes and nose streamed and I cancelled all plans.
Yesterday I felt a wee bit better and went to work, mostly because there was an admission to do. The boss asked if I was sick and made an issue of me spreading germs. I said I only came in to do the admission "get it done and then go home"
Maybe I take things to personally but I didnt like being the bad guy. The fact that they told me to do the admission then go pretty much says everything.
It's an odd thing, one minute I can feel quite good and the next my energy tanks.
I am home today. I had a chiro treatment and went out for coffee and now Buffy is sleeping on my lap.
A dear friend lost her mum last week and I want to go to the funeral on Friday. It's a 4.5 hour drive and I would normally do it with one arm tied behind me but I am nervous about doing too much too soon. I didn't think I was exhausted before I got sick but it's here now and some moments feels almost insurmountable.
While I have been taking it easy I read "The Unlikely Doctor": Timote Timoke tells his remarkable story about a childhood of disadvatage and violence, leading to gang life and gaol. The memory of the aroha he received from his grandparents sustains him until he can become a paramedic and eventually a doctor.
To say the book is inspirational would be trite so I won't. I will say it's a great example of how genuine love is never wasted.
