Back to it....

Happy Monday! I've been away from my home computer for the past week.  I find it a bit difficult to "blog" from other devices, so I let my blogging slip away from me. Now that I'm back, I'm looking forward to resuming my daily routines in my little office.  The fact that I am coughing significantly less than I have been is a bonus too.

Soo....about that cough.  I'm about to go down memory lane again, only this time it's about the distinct lack of cooperation between my lungs and I.  It began when I was a small baby, I'm told, and had several bouts of "croup".  It's a rather painful cough which closely resembles the sound of a seal's bark. Hence the nickname my Dad gave me, "Barky the Seal".  You're supposed to outgrow it by the age of five, but being a late bloomer I guess, I had bouts as late as about ten.  Steam heat is supposed to be helpful in opening up the lungs and making breathing easier.  I can still recall one time in which my parents created a tent over my bed, using a thick plastic sheet.  It hung from the headboard and was draped over my mother's vacuum cleaner and floor waxer on the other end.  Then a humidifier, spewing out hot mist, was place inside it with me.  I have to be honest and say it was pretty miserable lying there, my clothes and hair sopping wet.  Also in those days, they would give you ipecac, a coke like syrup which would make you vomit, in order to clear out the lungs.  I remember crying and wondering why on earth anyone would want me to be hanging over the toilet bowl throwing up.  I thought they had medicine so you wouldn't find yourself in that position.

Over the years I've had several bouts of bronchitis and asthma symptoms.  This recent episode with pneumonia was my first, and I hope, last.  Usually, when I start to feel better after a go round with a cough or mild illness, I jump right back into things, anxious to make up for lost time.  Not now.  I've finally learned that I pay a big price for that.  I am pacing myself.  No cheating.  No rushing to scrub the tub or pull all the weeds in the front flower bed when the Englishman goes out to the store.  I do a few bits and pieces, then sit and read a few chapters.  Or crochet a few rows.  Finally learning it's better to have calm lungs than a manicured garden.