"To have a right to do a thing is not at all the same as to be right in doing it."
--G. K. Chesterton--
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My back was out or in some stage of delicate for a month. By the end of last week it felt pretty good, so I figured I'd make it up to the country house this week.
Not to be.
Last Friday, the Nugget was miserable and snobbery. By Sunday evening I was sneezing, and by Monday I was miserable and snobbery. 'Long about Tuesday evening the miseries started to descend into my chest. Last night, Thursday, at about 9 pm, a good six hours since I'd taken some (every four hours) Robitussin, I felt really good and thought "Wow, it's over!". By 11 pm I was crawling to the cabinet for more Robitussin.
Sigh.
Will I ever again see that house?
Nugget is still suffering. Although her nose is now dry, her voice sounds like a cartoon witch, so I guess the miseries are in her throat and chest, too. She still laughs and plays, but at any moment the least tiny thing will send her sobbing into her mommy's lap. I told Daughter if she aches all over even 1/3 as bad as I do, take pity on her.
At least I have Robitussin.
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