Oh my Lord, this is the worst feeling in the world. My fingers are barely strong enough to type. I’ve just slumped my hands on the keyboard and am trying not to hit a key that’s out of range. It is proving exceptionally difficult.
For the past hour and a half or so, I have been exhausted. Suddenly swept by a wave of fatigue, I headed to an early night at around 9pm, and I got NO WHERE. I lay in bed, first shivering cold until I eventually didn’t notice it. Then I had this wretched idea that there was a prophecy the said something like "You cannot sleep using your own arm as a weapon." For some reason, in my weakened state, it made perfect sense. I knew I would not be able to sleep for a few hours, for every time I did catch up with sub-yawn- OH MY GOD THAT HURTS. Yawning is about three times more painful than swallowing. I’m in purgatory. I can’t sleep for more than ten minutes at a time, before I wake up drooling on my arm. It’s a fricking nightmare.
I finally forced myself out of bed, quite literally. I barely had the strength to roll over or swallow willingly let alone get out of bed, and I collapsed immediately. I crawled for a while until I decided I was being stupid, and rose to my feet only to crash into my cupboard. Eugene and Matt were still playing the piano, and I stumbled crying to them, letting my legs give way and lying there partially sobbing for a while. Then, after several painful minutes, I crawled/stumbled to the couch, and finally to the computer in the hopes that Ivy would be online to comfort me. Unfortunately, I do not think I will be able to contact her this evening, and must force myself to stay awake until my mind is exhausted enough to sleep.
Lord, what illness is this that drives me?!
Though it was I sought sleep some six hours ago, here I am, still awake. I took Eugene’s advice to what he called "The Lordy Syndrome": not being able to sleep at night, no matter what you did. I called Ivy, which was entirely selfish of me, for she too was seeking rest. I was just hoping to have some company, and upon apologising and bidding her sweet dreams once more, I did the unthinkable, and woke my mother.
We gathered that my sore throat originated from a blocked nose- resultantly, I had to sleep with my mouth open, and in turn, my throat must have been exposed to a virus or other little nasty. The reason I drool is that I cannot swallow the saliva as I normally would- my subconscious has come to fear the pain it brings, and so my body has stopped entirely unless I force it. I was also discovered to have a new fever, preventing me from getting too comfortable in a bed, for I’d be shivering and then trying to kick the blankets off moments later.
The two panadols I took at 1am in accordance with the four hour rule didn’t help at all. I’m tired, already Matt’s picked out three mistakes in the past… 20 seconds? In no means do I intend for these entries to be a pity-seeker as Pete would indubitably claim. I just needed someone to talk to, and unfortunately, everyone’s gone to bed save for myself, Mum (who’s moved to the couch to ward me) and Matt. Of course, Mum’s fallen asleep, bless her. I too will pursue much-needed rest, and hope my body will respond kindly in the morning. Sorry for being a whinger, but I really did just need someone to talk to about what I’m going through presently, and my real voice hurts too much to use. Night blog.
Still, sleep evades me. Mum is taking me to the hospital where hopefully I’ll feel a bit better. The reason I cannot sleep, I have decided, is that whenever I swallow, the sharp jolt of pain brings me back into consciousness. I’ve always wanted to stay in hospital, and now I finally can.
To Ivy: I am sorry, but I probably won’t see you this afternoon. We will speak again though.
To everyone else, Ivy included: If you are reading this, know that I love you. I do appreciate it a great deal that someone might pay the slightest inkling of attention to what I think, or how my day went, or what I’m going to do. It does mean a lot to me. Thank you, all of you.
My, the edits keep coming, don’t they? Well I just thought I’d say my throat feels a thousand times better after I took a bunch of neurophin- anti-inflamatory tablets, and a stronger dose of my prescribed anti-biotic. Eventually I should recover, but meanwhile I have to do what I can. I didn’t get to stay there as I had hoped, but when I got back I took advantage of the lack of pain and got an hour’s sleep. Sure, I’m a widdle bit sweepy, but I should pull through. I’m looking forward to getting rid of this accursed sore throat.