Keeping in the spirit of not whining, I am looking on the bright side. There’s a summer cold going around that practically requires an exorcism to be rid of. It had been floating dangerously close to The Glitter Globe for many weeks, taking down loved ones. I tried to keep it at bay with orange juice and chicken soup and shouts of, “Cover your mouth when you sneeze!” Alas, it snuck up on me and knocked me right off my typing shoes.
You know how you can feel these things coming, even before the sneezing and oozing begins, but you lie to yourself? Pretending not to be sick, I’d gone for a run, and then agreed to help a friend mark a property line. Said friend didn’t warn me that we were marking a boundary along a mountain, starting at the bottom and going up. I didn’t mention I might be carrying The Plague. My job was easy, all I had to do was walk straight up hill for hours, and spot the red ribbons tied on trees deep in the forest. My buddy, let’s call him Zeus, needed my help in this for one reason only, he’s color blind. The odds of him spotting red ribbons in a forest were a tad slim. I was an enormous help.
“Seriously? Are you on Facebook again?” Zeus caught up with me. It was about the third time he caught me sitting on a log, playing with my phone.
“Yeah,” I confessed, fiddling with the location device. I was really glad Facebook knew where we were, because I have never been so hopelessly lost in my life.
Zeus glared, and he has an impressive glare. I knew he would never have taken me into the woods if he could have found even a seeing-eye primate for the job of ribbon finder. I tried to hurry up and check my email. He fished a water bottle out of his backpack, continuing to glare, and said, “You actually have a connection here?” He didn’t really sound impressed.
“I know, right? I couldn’t believe it either. I have three bars!” Luckily I spotted the next ribbon at that point. Those suckers are hard to see even with the ability to spot color. It’s like Where’s Waldo in the forest, only Waldo’s in camouflage with a bit of pink lipstick on.
As we neared the top ridge of the mountain, Zeus said, “You’re sweating like a man.”
“Gee, thanks.” I mean really? Guys, even if you think it ya don’t say that!
“No really. You should see the back of your shirt.” By now I had a staff fashioned from a tree branch and it was doing most of the work as I dragged myself uphill. I’d drunk most of my water and the cell was firmly in my pocket. I was still lying to myself though, it was in the 90’s after all and the shivering was surely on account of all that man sweating. Apparently Zeus suspected I was considering crawling. He said, “I can mark off the rest of it another time. Why don’t we head back to the truck?” He got on the two-way radio, to chat with my Dear Hubby – who was somewhere in this vast forest. I continued up the hill and Zeus yelled, “Hey? Why don’t we just take the path back?” What? There is a path? If I’d had the ability to balance on two legs at that point, Zeus might have accidentally been knocked back down the mountain. Accidentally.
Eventually we found Dear Hubby and I climbed into the back of the truck and closed my eyes. Then they started trying to drive out of the forest. Did I mention that we drove into the forest? Not on a path, I mean we drove into the forest. I commented that this was the first time I’d ever been lost in the woods in a vehicle. The guys pointed out that we weren’t lost, they knew exactly where we were, just not how to get out.
So, yes, that was the most fun I’ve had in a week. The rest wasn’t nearly as good, but I have compiled a list of the highlights of having a wicked virus in the middle of summer. Remember The Interactive Joy List? Well, this is a Silver Lining List:
· Those new Kleenex with the lotion in them. You can be sick twice as long before you rub the skin off your face. Yay. They also come in a Vick’s Vapor Rub scent which is the only thing you can smell when you’re sick.
· Urgent Care. I’d never been to Urgent Care. I try to avoid going to doctors at all. They ask too many questions, starting with, “What’s your name?” But my regular Doctor wasn’t open when my hearing clogged shut, so I dragged myself to Urgent Care. They didn’t even ask for my name, just an ID and that was it. In fifteen minutes I was at the Pharmacy with a script for antibiotics. That rocks.
· Less Air-Conditioning despite the 90+ degree weather. I spent the entire week shutting it off and crawling under the electric blanket. It’s a wonder my family didn’t kill me, but I was saving money on electricity!
· Reading time. I will admit the first couple of days were almost a treat, curled up with a book all day long. I read two months worth of books this week. Bet Amazon stock is up too.
· Cold comfort things: Luden’s cough drops (Do they do anything? Anything at all?), saltine crackers, orange juice,
canned soup crossing that off – sorry that stuff
is just gross. But I did request it and was given a bunch of different kinds,
all of which went into the “gross” pile. Now if you can get someone to bring
you homemade soup (especially in August) that is a perk. Tea. The best. I give
my cold comfort award to hot tea when you’re coughing and oozing. It’s almost
as much fun as getting lost in the woods in a car.
Do you have anything to add to the Silver Lining List? Come on, anything at all works. I know of one friend who fills out those forms at the Doctor’s office with interesting tidbits. She insists they never read them, told me once she put “Figure Skater” under occupation. Dish.