Originally Posted Sunday, February 16, 2014
I'm too sick to write today. Too sick to do anything. It hit me hard last night. I should have gotten a flu shot, perhaps, but it does me no good to think of that now. The day is brilliant and crisp. I will spend it in a dim room lying in bed listening to music, drifting in and out. I think I took too much Extra Strength Robitussin last night. Not double the dose, but something more than suggested. I just read this on WebMD:
"These products do not cure or shorten the length of the common cold and may cause serious side effects. To decrease the risk for serious side effects, carefully follow all dosage directions."
I couldn't read last night. Who knew?
I'm too sick to go to the store. I need some things that I will have to do without. This is a sneak preview of the end of life, I think, alone in a house unable to get relief, the cat only concerned about food and love and caring not for my dying at all. Take heed any who would head this way. Read your Shakespeare. There is no ill that shall go unpunished.
Oh, and one final note:
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