When you’re sick in retirement – “Who you gonna call?” Does anybody really care? It’s not as if you’re missing a day of work or have to reschedule a bunch of appointments. I suppose I could call the doctor – what if he’s out sick today? My wife won’t feel sorry for me; she has to go to work. I had to settle for a fist-bump rather than a kiss as she headed out the door to the office. She’s got a daughter to get married this weekend and can’t afford to be sick. Can I? I could sit around and watch TV all day. Oh wait, that’s what I usually do. I felt groggy and unmotivated when I woke up, so that was normal. However, I did not do a typical three-mile run, opting instead for the one-mile minimum to maintain my consecutive day running streak. That’s a good indication that something is very much amiss.
When I went to bed last night, I started to cough, but it felt more like a tickle in my throat, so I squeezed some soothing honey into my mouth. I didn’t want to wake up my wife, who has enough trouble sleeping. There was a little syrup left in the bottom of a Nyquil bottle that I finished off. Ten minutes later, I was feeling the effects and drifted off into a drug-induced trance. I got up a couple of times during the night, but was out cold until just before the alarm went off. I woke with a headache and stuffiness. Everything was out of sync as I struggled to get the dogs outside and the cat fed. I only managed to run just over a mile, hoping that some exercise might get me back on track.
My wife reminded me that a couple of our friends were under the weather during our Steamboat stay. I must have caught a fragment of their misery. Or perhaps confinement on the plane ride home made me vulnerable. I rarely get sick, but as I get older there’s concern that my abilities to fight off infection will diminish. Illness is the one thing that can ruin a perfectly good retirement. I’ll have to remain strong through a long weekend of family interaction, hoping that I’m not contagious. Later this afternoon, I’ll get on another plane to San Francisco. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll find the energy for a full three-mile run along the waterfront? Whatever this is that has me feeling lousy, it at least hasn’t affected my appetite. Feed a cold…feed a fever…feed a cough…pass the brownies.
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