This one is kicking my h1ney!

I won't regale you with tales from my week...let's just sum it with this sentence: I didn't have to go to the hospital. So how bad could it have been? What I did manage to explore was that peak of illness that allows you to wallow at home in misery while still avoiding the emergency room. It was a fine line, but I walked it miserably, with every ounce of pathetic and self woe I could muster. I impressed even myself, and at one point noted that I was channeling my inner Russyl, as only he can dip to the levels of misery I was producing. Perhaps we've bonded in new and exciting ways through this illness - time will tell.

I think I have a few solid days of recovery ahead of me, but I can't imagine it could any worse than the last 48 hours - so upward and onward. Or in the immortal words of my buddy Shannon, "enough of this!" In honor of my return to health, I did not watch more Project Runway (something that has filled my feverish days and nights), but instead I wiped down a grimy gross stove top. I felt so elated with my efforts, I celebrated in the only way my body currently knows how - with a coughing fit and 3 sneezes which left me sitting on the love seat, sweaty and gasping for air like a chain smoker.

Another day off school for Kia - yes really - and today she has declared she is baking a cake. I can taste nothing. Zero. Nada. Zip. Not even after I blow my nose, which has long been a Schenkey family trick of the trade to still eating like crazy person when you're ill. Chew chew. Blow. Slight taste sensation. Repeat. I've passed the point of no return with food - there is no sense of smell - no sense of taste - and worst of all - no desire for it. So really, what better opportunity for Kia to do some baking? Whatever the outcome - no one gets hurt.

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