During my two-week-long illness I have not received a single rejection.
There is a saying in France that one should never get sick in August, as that's the month when the entire country - including the medical profession - is off on vacation. I thought of that Friday, when I called my ear-nose-and-throat doctor and was told that he doesn't see patients on Friday. Next I called my general practitioner and learned that she was away until the 23rd. The American medical system, it seemed, was copying the French one in its least appealing aspect: inactivity.
Hania and I met by the NyQuil bottle last night.
"You know it's 10% alcohol," she informed me.
"Whoopee," I said, putting down the emptied cup.
I should have said, "Sante."
I've been getting up repeatedly during the night, so I'm used to seeing darkness outside, but this morning it was dark at 8 am. The rain is continuing the impression that the night hasn't yet passed. I hope my infection realizes that it's now daytime, when it should start acting with a little more civility.
Went to bed at 10 last night and woke up with an earache at what felt like 5 but was only midnight. My nose, which had been running all day like it had for the last five days, was having a crisis of confidence: keep running or go the stuffed-up route? Let's try both! Happily, the flow was not fast and warm, which I've come to recognize as blood. Happily, I slept straight through to 7 o'clock. Earache gone. Nose though shows no sign of quitting.