New Year's Day came and New Year's Day went, taking my good health with it. The holiday season was super busy, visiting with a multitude of relatives and friends, not to mention shopping among crowds, going to the movies among crowds and eating at restaurants among crowds. Somewhere, a tiny virus cell jumped from one person to me and now I am "sick as a dog".

I have been so lucky with sickness in that I haven't had any. I refused the flu shot because I have never had the flu. At my age, I thought every possible germ had already assaulted my body, but I was wrong.

It started last week with extreme exhaustion.  I had a four-hour nap, woke up to eat only a fraction of the gourmet meal that Hubby had prepared, a sure sign of illness, and then went back to bed. The next morning with a head was full of mucous, and I had to dig out the box of Kleenex that hadn't been used in years. I played Search and Find in the spare bedroom to find one errant COVID test which could still be used.  At one time, a long, long time ago, many test kits, as well as masks, had littered the house, shoved into inconspicuous places. Now they were hard to come by, but, alas, one solitary box with one solitary COVID test came into sight. It had been so long since I used one that I actually had to read the directions.  First, I had to use the extra long Q-Tip to search for a virus germ, which was then added to some type of solution to verify if it was COVID or not. It was not.

The fact that it wasn't COVID was not reassuring because I felt so miserable. My eyes watered. Mucous dripped out of my nose.  My body ached as though I had truly tried to exercise. Becoming nauseous was a surprise, as this symptom usually only rears its ugly head when I get carsick. However, my preference for popsicles addresses the nausea fine.

Now, some three days later, a wracking cough has invaded my lungs, along with a low-grade fever. Not used to being sick, these miserable symptoms have wracked my body, humbling me. I am so lucky to have generally been healthy, and I have such empathy for those who are not.

Those heartbreaking commercials for Shriners' Hospital tug extra hard. Children are supposed to be carefree and fun loving, not bogged down by illness. Commercials for cold and allergy pills appeal to me, although my own body does not recuperate so quickly to want to frolic among the flowers like the actors do. I just want to crawl into bed under the covers. Even the commercials about the abused dogs appeal to me as I feel like they look...disheveled, sad, and shaky.

Rather than rant and rave about my various physical ailments, it makes better sense to contact my doctor's office for an appointment to get a better handle on it. I suppose that is what someone who is sick should do.