I came back from the east coast with a cold. I would be okay if it were a normal cold, instead, I have the mother of all sore throats. I've never been in such pain. But a visit to the doctor told me I'd lost three pounds, even though there was nothing she could do for my throat.
I also came back from the east coast with a grudging acknowledgment that I'm no spring chicken anymore. I headbanged my way through a song late in a Cape Cod wedding reception only to wake up the next morning with a kink in my neck which progressed all the way down my back by the end of the day when we had driven to meet my brother in Boston. I was sitting in his back-room poker game with a backache that unfortunately, and amazingly, outweighed my curiosity at his vaguely shady hobby.
That said, I've missed and will continue to miss this swell until I'm well.
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