Cold Mundanity

I meant to post on New Year's Eve--and then again on New Year's Day--about all the things I talked about on my blog this year and never followed up. Like the blanket I made and the dog's weird behavior. You know, riveting things like that. With pictures. But I haven't gotten around to taking the pictures. I still want to write it, so maybe this weekend . . .

In the meantime, I've been fighting off a nasty cold. Here's the story I alluded to before. So, I came down with this cold the Monday before Christmas, as we were flying back here from the frozen tundra where we had been visiting family. For the rest of the week, I was patting myself on the back for fighting it off pretty darn well--I was just a little sniffly with a scratchy throat. Then, on Sunday morning, the real cold started. I woke up (i.e., dragged myself out of bed) to sing at 7:30 mass, came home and slept, showered, and went back for 12:30 mass. By the 12:30 mass, I was sneaking into the sacristy for kleenex and whispering to the ladies around me that I would not be holding or shaking anyone's hand. The rest of Sunday I felt miserable.

On Sunday night, I was trying to fall asleep and ended up totally freaking myself out. Mr. X drifted off, and I was lying there, trying to decide whether I should breathe through my mouth or if I could get enough air through my nose. By 2am, I thought that, if I was breathing through my nose and it got too stuffy, maybe I'd stop breathing. "Don't be ridiculous!" I told myself. "People do actually open their mouth if they can't breathe through their nose!" After carrying on that argument for about half an hour, I dozed off and woke up to find that I could breathe through my nose. "It must be going into my chest," I thought. "What if I get bronchitis? It's bad enough that I can't take a decongestant. When I have bronchitis I really won't be able to breathe, and I probably won't be able to take the antibiotics for it either! I'll probably have to go to the hospital . . ." and so on for about another half-hour. I finally drifted off again, but I was sleeping lightly. By 4:30, Mr. X woke up to go to the bathroom and asked if I was OK. I said "not really" in my smallest voice, and he said I should have woken him up right away. He came over and snuggled up to me so I could sleep. And then we went to the ultrasound that morning--so we were both pretty out of it!

But, seriously, you'd think I had some rare and horrible disease the way I managed to work myself up! The cold's on its way out, but it's made me more worn out than usual. Yesterday, I even got sick to my stomach and stayed home from mass. Pregnancy has finally convinced me that I need to actually pay attention when I feel tired or sick. Speaking of which, I think I should probably sleep now!