I am not at all sure what Samuel Butler was thinking when he said being ill was ‘one of the greatest pleasures of life’. What a strange thing to say. I have been what my father used to call ‘sick as a dog’ all week and I can see absolutely no pleasure in it whatsoever . . .
(And, before I go any further, what kind of odd expression is ‘sick as a dog’ anyway? Why do we always blame the dog? (dog tired . . . dog in the manger . . . dog’s breakfast . . . go to the dogs . . . ) Although I have also lately heard the expression ‘sick as a parrot’ too. Not sure what to make of that one either. )
As you can probably tell, I am a mite grumpy. I don’t like being unwell and I have felt absolutely miserable for over a week now (nothing life threatening—just some flavour of miscellaneous virus that happens to be doing the rounds . . . along with a cough . . . and a runny nose . . . and a monster headache . . . ) and at time of writing I am showing very little sign of improvement.
(I don’t get sick very often but when I do I go all in. I know they say things usually get worse before they get better but hey—give a girl a break—please! I am well and truly over it. Well, no. I’m not over it, as in ‘I’m feeling better’. I’m over it, as in ‘I’m fed up’. Perhaps I should have said that to begin with. Oh dear God I’m rambling . . . )
Anyway, I think the thing that bothers me most (apart from the actual feeling like crap part of course) is that there is very little I can actually do about it. I can take a tablet for my headache, and another to stop my nose running, and I can keep up the fluids, and rest when I can . . . blah, blah, blah (we all know the drill) . . . . but in the end I really just have to wait it out. My body will heal itself when it is good and ready and not before.
You know, it’s so easy to sink into the mire when you feel dreadful (nobody likes me, everybody hates me, think I’ll go and eat worms . . . ) and I find I have to constantly pull myself up and remind myself—’It is only the flu, Sal! You will get over it. This too shall pass . . . ‘
And perhaps, in a round about sort of way, that is what Samuel Butler was getting at. Perhaps he meant that by being ill (but not too ill) one might be forced to remember what a pleasure it was when one felt well . . . 
Sally says . . . eat, sleep, work, read, play, draw, bark . . . 
stevetalbot51
June 25, 2017 at 8:53 pm
Hope the heavy duty drugs are continuing to help Sal
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Judy
June 24, 2017 at 8:46 am
Aww Sal that’s no good. Get well soon. It’s absolutely pouring with rain here at Pacific Harbour but 25 degrees so tempted to go for a swim anyway. Rest up and enjoy the fur child therapy xx
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sallyinthehaven
June 24, 2017 at 10:57 am
Thanks Judy. I am currently sitting in front of the heater with a big cup of tea, a movie on the telly, and my girls all piled up (sleeping) around me. Things could be worse. 🙂 Sorry to hear about the rain but I don’t suppose that will spoil your holiday. There must be a bar open somewhere . . .
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Jon
June 23, 2017 at 2:35 pm
feel better soon xx
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sallyinthehaven
June 24, 2017 at 7:51 am
Chemist took pity on me and put me on some heavy duty ‘pharmacy only’ drugs yesterday and I feel better already. Not good – but better, and I’ll take that for now. x
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S. A. Young
June 23, 2017 at 8:51 am
Poor baby 😦 Sucks to be sick and I hope you feel better SOON. Hope the girls are giving you lots of cuddles.
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sallyinthehaven
June 23, 2017 at 11:52 am
They are all being very solicitous – bless. Poor Mabel though – because I am sniffing so much I think she thinks I am crying and she is wearing herself out trying to make me feel better . . .
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S. A. Young
June 23, 2017 at 12:06 pm
Awww poor puppy! (I swear I’m more concerned with the feelings of dogs)
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C. C. Cedras
June 23, 2017 at 7:53 am
I hate to “Like” this post. Poor you! ☹️
Personally, I dread getting a respiratory virus because I ALWAYS end up with a secondary infection that just drags it all out. HATE it.
You’re doing all the right things — please get well soon
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sallyinthehaven
June 23, 2017 at 8:09 am
Thank you. It’s been a miserable week but my girls are looking after me (any excuse to all pile back into bed together . . . ) 🙂
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