Sunday Stroke Survival~ Not Coping

I cope better some days better than others. Some days are the pits and I don't mean cheery pits more like hairy, stinking arm pits. It's just gross.

This week I've been on crying jags, sneezing, coughing, and miserably not coping well. I've had a cold. My first since I've had my stroke. I said previously it was going to be like the grief process, a year of firsts.

This was one first that I wished I could forgo. A cold is bad enough when you are able, but recovering from paralysis... forget about it. I have gotten dressed only when I've HAD to go out like my husband's neurology/pain management appointment. I feel like even putting on regular clothes instead of my nightgown and robe is too much trouble.

Is it starve a cold and feed a fever or the other way around? Either way I've been swallowing Vitamin C and zinc by the handfuls trying to make this stuff pass quicker. The malaise and sheer exhaustion has swamped me up to my eyeballs. I hate being sick. With all the bone and muscle aches, teeth itch, and eyes growing fur. Tissues filling the waste can almost as fast as I empty it. It's not one of my best times. I don't imagine it is for anyone, but still I've got my handy box of tissues while I type my blog.

Who can write and edit when they feel this way? Uh, me that's who. Even though I've spent more hours sleeping than awake this week, I still managed to write another story for Don't Get Your Panties in a Wad. A heart attack didn't stop me. A stroke didn't stop me. By gawd, a little thing like a cold won't stop me either. I'm a writer. Whether it's any good or not that remains to be seen. With all this cotton fluff in my head, tears streaming down my cheeks, and nose running like a freight train, I'll be pleasantly be surprised if it makes the cut/edit.

Well, I'm off to make myself some hot tea, grab another box of tissues, and crawl back into bed.

How do you cope with a cold?

Keep writing and loving the Lord.