The Yellow Season, Redux

Little Cuter stayed home from work on Monday, sleeping until mid-morning and napping in the afternoon.  Tuesday was an I sound worse than I feel day, her symptoms manageable with medication. Although the additional pill she took that morning had left her extra thirsty, it gave her immune system the extra boost it needed.    

You take that with the meds you take every day?  You can add them together?

Her laughing Yes was feeble, probably because she didn't want to annoy that tickle in the back of her throat, the one that should have alerted me to the fact that my disease was actually allergies.

Apparently, no harm has come to my child in her quest to survive her allergies  I'm not supposed to have allergies in the desert, but, somehow, I do.  I put those facts together with the overriding sense of love and affection and trust I feel for my youngest child and drove straight home to take all the medicines the PA suggested.

I'm not being weak.  I'm not giving in to something I should be able to overcome.  I'm not sure where I got these thoughts.... they are obviously not helpful and yet here they are, encouraging me to tough it out..... 

I took the pills, the nose spray, the inhaler, a pencil, and pad of paper and arranged them on my bathroom counter.  I'm keeping track of the every 4 hours rule for the inhaler, because writing it down keeps me honest.

The native peoples in the area really did call this The Yellow season.  You can feel it clogging your nostrils and your lungs and the back of your throat.  It's life and renewal and the birds and the butterflies and the lizards are happy.  It hurts so good.