Call Me Crazy or Call Me Well, maybe....
You know what it's like. One day I am feeling fine. The next morning something feels off. Coffee tastes a little funny and the breakfast of yogurt doesn't settle like it usually does. But it was a Tuesday, my busiest day. I had a weekday Eucharist, a class to teach, a hospital visit to pray the prayers for the end of life, and another class to teach that night. To be on the safe side I started popping Zicam and drinking Airborne and filled my pockets with cough drops. As the day wore on I felt more and more off. I stopped off at the grocery story and stocked up on herbal teas for colds. By evening I was certain I had a fever, but I didn't have a thermometer to check. And, let's just say that a meat thermometer stuck under one's armpit doesn't really register correctly and looks ridiculous... the fact that I actually tried that is clearly an indication that I was in a fevered state. The next morning I sent my husband out for a thermometer and additional Zicam ...