For the past several days I have been feeling quite poorly. The reason for feeling poorly is a badly swollen left leg which was caused by, I think, a cat scratch. It has drained, swollen, drained, etc. Today The Husband said enough was enough and forced me to go to the doctor. There is now antibiotics in the system and life proceeds with only a wee bit of a gimp.
The Husband, sick himself, has been a true trooper with this whole leg business. He even stayed awake all night to take care of me because there simply wasn’t a way for me to manage to get comfortable, and, yes, I almost waited too long before going to the doctor. Why? Because the pain of the leg is negligible in comparison to the normal, everyday pain. I probably would have continued to ignore it if it hadn’t hurt so badly when Wicket, our gray ball of fur, or the cat, a gray-and=white ball of fur, would jump onto my legs and curl up to sleep. Every night. Every time there was pressure from their weight, the leg would wake me up and almost make me cry, which is saying something.
Now, there is medicine and life gimps along. One good thing is I should feel like working more tomorrow. I haven’t worked any for several days.