A matter of taste

Scads of apologies for my absence. But this time I have an excuse, really!

I've been sick.

Yes, sick. Argh. Stupid summer. And I'd managed to go sooooo long too! Not since March had I experienced the mucous madness...and alas, here we are again.

Not sure if it was my boss that passed along the yuckies or if I snagged them off some public transit railing. Regardless, last week I got sick. Knock you on your ass sick.

Before I could say echinacea, it felt like I was swallowing razor blades. Quite the auspicious beginning. Blessed me.

The next day I was a huge diva bag of poo. Felt awful. Came home from work early and just crashed on the couch. Snotty mess. Wicked headache. Terrible fatigue.

Blech.

Friday I woke up and there was no. way. on. earth. I was leaving my house to go to work. I somehow managed to pull myself together and Hubs shuttled me over to the walk-in clinic for some medical attention as colds never just stay colds with me.

The verdict? Bronchitis and an ear infection.

Lovely.

The doctor whipped out her prescription pad and within seconds I had the ticket to feeling better in my hot little hands. Ten days of biaxin. Good times, good times.

Not sure if you've ever taken biaxin, but it's one of those annoying drugs. It works fantastically well - you start to feel better incredibly quickly - but you must contest with a nasty side effect.

The worst freaking taste in your mouth. For ten salivatingly long days. Every morning I wake up, and it hits me like a tidal wave of disgusting. Nice way to start the day.

For the first few days, it wasn't even that big a deal. The difference from how I felt Friday to Saturday was nothing short of transformational. Friday I simply laid about and moaned a lot....Saturday I was up and about, making a cheesecake for celtic_kitten's birthday fete later that afternoon.

God bless thee, Alexander Fleming.

Now yes, I was feeling better, but still not fantastic. I did decide to go to that afternoon's pool party because a) it was super close by, b) I thought the nice fresh air would do me some good, c) I felt I was being good by electing not to go in the pool, and d) I just darned well felt like being there. So I went, had a lovely time, enjoyed simply sitting outside on a summer day.

Somedays it's important to just be.

My biggest fear of the day was not how I was going to feel, it was how my cheesecake was going to turn out. I'd used a brand new recipe as I know she's partial to the New York style cheesecake. And then the panic set in.

What if the recipe didn't turn out? What if I was about to serve everyone a slice of eek on a plate!? I mean yeah, it'd be eek topped with your choice of cherry or fresh strawberry topping, but eek nonetheless! And lets face it, no one wants to mow down on eek in the middle of a sunny afternoon.

So we all sit down, have a lovely dinner, and the cheesecake is served. I take my first bite....

...and I can't taste a thing.

I'm so stuffed up that I register no taste, none whatsoever. I look around me and see smiling happy cheesecake faces, but these are all such nice people that there's no way in hell they'd ever tell me if it was crap, ya know? Celtic_kitten had a delighted grin which reassured me somewhat, but I was not going to know for sure until I had cleared up enough to taste it for myself.

Fortunately there were two pieces left over, and the next day I got my taste. It was worth the wait, in my most humble of opinions. This is one recipe that will make its way into permanent rotation.

Oh yeah...Hubs liked it too.

Sunday I awoke feeling pretty much the same, but there was work to be done - it was off to Brampton to explore the sight of my sister in laws' forthcoming nuptuals. We spent the afternoon discussing all sorts of wedding minutia and by 6 I was spent. Home to bed we went.

I'm still feeling rather nasty. The worst part now is the coughing that keeps me up at night. I have to sleep sitting up, four pillows stacked behind me. Humph. All I want is a good night's sleep - is that too much to ask? I mean really!?

Alas. Only a day and a half more to get through this week, then I'm off Thursday afternoon and Friday. I plan on enjoying my final few days as a 34 year old in style - out for lunch with friends, the EX with Hubs, and a spa morning with my fabulous sister in law.

Doesn't sound too bad, does it? Now if only I can get back to my somewhat healthy diva self, I'll be delighted! 'Cause I don't want to miss a mouthful of my Japanese with the girls or the spa lunch on Friday!

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?