The Neverending Story

It had to happen sometime…just wish it wasn’t now. I’m talking about getting sick. Yeah, the Humira is doing its job–or else this is a convenient coincidence. Right now, I’m expectorating an inordinate amount of mucus at an alarming rate. My nose is raw, I can barely breathe, and I’m coughing almost nonstop. Honestly, I don’t know how my husband can sleep through all of it.

This is a terrible time of year to be sick. I have the Yule garments to finish (all of them are at least started, with one finished, one nearly finished, one halfway finished, and one mostly cut out), Oleanders to stitch, work to do, and more. I. Can’t. Be. Sick. But I am. I’ve got a nasty head cold, and it’s damn frustrating. If I push every afternoon leading up to Yule I can get the sewing done, though, provided I don’t have to wear a freakin’ fracture boot for weeks on end again.

Yeah, the foot’s still hurting. It’s especially worse this morning since I didn’t wear the fracture boot at all yesterday. No, my fool self felt I was good enough to work a half day without the boot and then continue into the evening without it because I had sewing to do. I see the doctor this afternoon, though, thanks to my wonderful boss who is going to cover for me in the surgery department so I can go to my appointment. Otherwise, I would’ve had to wait another week and change to get in.

I’m not gonna lie–even if I am told to wear the boot, I’m going to get the sewing done, one way or the other. Okay, I might lie….to the doctor. Let him think I’m going to have someone else man the sewing machine while I sit and elevate the ol’ footsie. As a wise old woman once said:

aintnobodygottimeforthatgif

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