Miserable

That's the only way to describe how I've felt for the last week. When I put up the last post a week ago, summarizing what had been going on here on the edge for the last few weeks, I was looking forward to attending a concert by the Ocracoke Oprey on Sunday and writing a glowing review of the show when I got home.

Well, I woke up on Sunday feeling kind of funny, and in the few hours before time to leave for the concert it morphed from kind of funny to downright awful. So Hilda and Jenni went to the concert without me, and from their reports it was wonderful. I'll never know, though, because as they were out enjoying the concert, I was laying on the living room couch covered with about nine blankets and afghans. I concluded that I was sick.

Later that night, I felt the fever abate, but I didn't feel any better. Monday and Tuesday are just a blur, mostly in bed or on the couch. Hilda took over for me fielding phone calls and warning people away from our house, lest they catch this dreadful bug. As usual, she has been a great caregiver. On Tuesday night I started coughing, and by Wednesday morning my ribs were so sore I couldn't stand to cough again, but couldn't stop either. I finally broke down and went to the doc to see if I had some dread disease. The verdict was that I didn't, and he gave me some cough medicine that seems to help some, but makes me drowsy, so I only take it at night.

I'm feeling a lot better now, although I'm pretty weak from the inactivity and still coughing at regular intervals. Maybe I'll live after all.