Still breathing, still coughing; not always at the same time.
Today was the first time I could speak more than two sentences, or walk further than 10 steps without an eruption of coughing. I announced to Mr FD that there was a chance I was going to survive, and I chose to ignore the flutter of disappointment that momentarily crossed his face.
Son is on mid-year break from his studies and has been keeping the home fires burning. He really has – he chops the wood for our wood fireplace! Mr FD is in pain awaiting knee surgery and so rather chair bound, so Son has been taking care of the house. His sisters’ won’t believe what they are reading should they read my words, but Son has been vacuuming carpets and running for more cough syrup. I think he missed the joke when I suggested that he apply for a carer’s pension for caring for his ill and suffering parents! He is a good man.
Not quite the way I planned to spend my holidays, but I suppose I should be grateful I had the time off work and so have not lost wages. I haven’t seen Petit Fille for over a fortnight now and hope she remembers me on my next visit!