Recovery is a long road
So, the fever is gone. Snuck* out of town Tuesday morning, leaving behind stomach confusion (since I was running serious Calorie deficit, but my appetite was one of the last things to get back online.
* Snuck isn't standard! Who knew?
It also left behind a surprise. I now have a pink rash-lattice spread across my chest, back neck, even scalp. Itches a bit, in the distance. Indeed! To the lat, the fever grapples with me; From Hell's heart it stabs, For Hate's sake, the fever spits its last breath upon me*. Fortunately, I got some steroids for them today, as well as some testing. They're pretty sure it's a Non-Specific Viral Rash: virus comes in, makes everything hot and shivery for a few days, and when you kill him he ruins your complexion. No survival benefit to it, you understand; just because he can. This will clear up in a couple days.
*I know. Slightly different wording. I thought making it a little different makes it stand out differently.
The other possibility, one which also would clear up in a couple days, is Streptococcus. Specifically, Scarlet fever. They odds are against it, but they're doing bloodwork to be certain. But in the meantime, I needed to apologize for Sara for dismissing her suggestion that it might be Scarlet fever, something which everyone knows is one of those Oregon Trail diseases that we don't get in the first world anymore.
Sara was a real source of comfort during all this. Except when she started wondering if I might have Smallpox. I mean, God!
Well, good. This post is about over. It would have been done a while ago except that I got distracted. Well, sort of. This itself was a distraction from my original plan, which was to read for Darwin and then plan for the next D&D session. And then I saw how large the unread Friends post pile had gotten. No! Must... not... confuse... urgency... with... importance! And then there's also the fact that, word-wise, I'm still about halfway through Day One of NaNoWriMo, and I've got two sizable papers coming up to worry about, and...
And now I have a super-stupid idea for a short story about someone being told God created the world and then deriving its highly-non-orthodox canonical dogma-approved nature from first principles ("Yep. Definitely a sense of humor"), and besides the fact that it can be called "The Creation of God", or maybe even "Adam's Creation of God", I'd have very low expectations for it, but I kind of want to write it just to know if there's more then a premise to the story.
Not enough hours in the day, man. Not enough hours in the week for the tasks of day. And so many of them squandered.
Set aside the detritus.