Down, but not Out

I'm trying to blog, but this is a lame attempt. The flu/food poisioning that knocked me off my feet last week, still has lingering effects. I'm so sick and tired, I still have two of the three candy bars Doctor Chai dropped off and a Magnum Bar(Pakistan's attempt to copy the Dove Bar) in the freezer for three days now.

I'm feeling all the energy of a dead dog. I'm languishing away, but I maintain that there's nothing a doctor could do for me. I've got messed up guts and it's just going to take time to repopulate my intestions with the natural flora and fauna that make normal digestion possible. I'm eating yeast powder, yogart and bananas, so I am trying. In my waking hours (and they are very few), I shuffle around the house pretending to do light housework. A little picking up here, a little putting away there. That's about all I can manage. When I have to leave the house to teach American, I load up with an elephant sized dose of anti-diarrheal pills and shuffle out the house. A few hours later, I return and drop, exausted into bed.

My hubby is contantly feeling my head, declaring I have a fever (which I don't) and trying to drag me off to the doctor. I went once and have used up my self-imposed limit of one doctor's visit per illness. Last night Abez tried to entice me to go out for ice-cream. I saw right through her feeble attempt to get me within dragging range of the doctor's office. On the dinning table this morning I saw a scrap of paper with my weight divided by three, and a diaghram on how to carry me out to the car and into the doctor's office. (Abez and Owl take a leg each and Hubby gets the head.) They don't think I know, but I do. I've filled my pockets with rocks and hid the keys to the car. They'll never take me alive!!!