Despite the continuing cold weather with snow and ice on the ground and sleet in the air, the blue tits are visiting the nest box in the woods behind us with spectacular courtship flights. The devils. The change in day length probably has something to do with it. Or maybe it's just joie de vivre.
Anyway, I have a cold. In the heady days of wellness I used to get about three colds a year and, as time went on they became very heavy, then mysteriously reduced. I used to think this was a sign of how healthy I was. I'd get a little snuffle and then a week of sinusitis. Then, with the onset of CFS my colds disappeared altogether. This year they seem to be returning in backwards order; snuffles then sinusitis. This weekend I have managed a proper cold with frantic sneezing, runny nose, loss of appetite and not wanting to get out of bed. I've been so happy to be 'normally' ill. How contrary I am.
Possibly it means nothing. I'm choosing to believe it is a green shoot and my immune system is starting to work properly again. Yesterday Shelli talked about the difficulties of hope. I wonder if it is realistic to hope for recovery, but then remember people do spontaneously get better. Perhaps slow onset means slow recovery?
An interesting side issue comes out of this. I used, perversely, to enjoy colds because it was an excuse to pull up the drawbridge and do nothing. Yesterday I gave myself this same permission. I stayed in bed for the whole morning. Called weakly for snacks and hot drinks. Had a bath and watched TV all afternoon. I didn't even stick to my rest routine. It made me realise how much I still do even when I'm not 'working'.
I wonder if it's time to look at my routine again and make some changes? I feel better for the rest from resting, (see 'contrary' remark) which suggests I'm not resting enough. Short of hiring a butler and kitchen maid I'm not sure what I can do?
Like the blue tits, who know Spring is just around the corner, I can feel and act as if recovery is more than a possibility.