Spring Sunshine, Robins and Kleenex

We’re all so glad spring has sprung. What I can do without, though, is my annual change-of-season cold. Faithfully every year I can count on this seasonal marker to indicate the transition into a new season. I don’t understand this. I managed this past winter to dodge, evade, slink past or otherwise slide around those folks coming into my orbit with maladies of one kind or another and not catch anything. Same thing happens when summer turns into fall.

Having a cold and having MS is not a good thing. My precarious strength, tenuous at best, disappears when fighting a cold. Even the simple act of rising from my chair requires Herculean strength. I finally gave up yesterday when trying to get out of my recliner. The motorized chair lifts its seat up and down enough for me to maneuver myself into and out of it. So when I needed to get up to facilitate the facilities, I required human assistance to haul the old body up. I had raised the recliner seat so far in the upright position, I was afraid I would pitch myself forward onto the floor. Visions of cow lifts danced across my fuzzy brain and I wondered how much work it would be to install one hanging from my living room ceiling. Absolutely not worthy of an HGTV photo shoot.

Today I feel much better, the strength is returning to my limbs. I have a wicked residual cough left to deal with, however. Unfortunately, I watched a sci-fi thriller last night (Contagion) and I feel like there are heebee-jeebee germs all over me. Until I am completely well and this cough clears, I will  sequester myself in the house. It’s the least I can do in order to save mankind. Rule #1: Don’t watch a movie about a pandemic when you are feeling under the weather. But here’s something else: How come I don’t look as good dealing with an ordinary cold as Gwyneth Paltrow did in the movie just before she keeled over? Sheesh.


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