By | February 3, 2014

I’m sick.

I’ve got a bad cold. It started a week ago, mostly as sniffles and congestion, and I beat it back using a steroid nasal inhaler. But then later in the week, I had a close encounter with a co-worker who was so ill that he’d had to skip sessions at the customer site, and had for some Godawful reason dressed and shown up one morning, completely out of it. We turned him around and sent him back to bed, but it looks like the damage had already been done.

I felt pretty bad that Friday as I traveled home from Kansas City. Saturday was pretty darn rotten. Sunday was just plain awful. I wound up taking today off from work because I just felt so tired and full of yuck that I could barely stand. (I had an exciting interlude mid-afternoon when I tried to go to the bathroom, felt so weak that I basically collapsed in the doorway, and then spent sixty seconds or so trying to right myself, confused and shaking.) And I feel awful right now.

But I’m going to try to go in tomorrow to work anyway — for two hours, give or take. I’m the subject-matter expert on a product that a whole bunch of fellow employees are traveling in to learn about, and taking tomorrow off would be awkward, to say the least. I will use plenty of hand sanitizer, cough syrup, and so on, and keep my distance… I don’t want to be a vector myself.

I just wish, in a pathetic way, that I was on the road traveling this week. When you stay in hotels, someone else changes your sheets. When you’ve been perspiring in bed for three days and you can’t take it any more and your spouse is at work, you’ve got to get up and do your sheets yourself, sick or not.


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