Two weeks of fevered activity – the first because I actually had fever and the next because my weeklong absence from office had led to a work pileup.
Week 1
I’m one of those people who suffer through frequent, random and inexplicable bouts of common cold, accepting that this is their lot in life. So I was not unduly alarmed when another bout of sneezing, watering eyes (and nose), assailed me over the weekend. By Monday night however, it became clear that not just the weekend but my entire week look set to be ruined. I came down with fever that would subside on having paracetamols only to resurface after a few hours.
I realized that fevers are a great way to spend time. In the sense that you don’t realize where time flies as you lie in a haze of discomfort, unable to gaze upon the world because your eyelids have grown so heavy and your limbs as unfamiliar as strangers. You dream, or think you dream, of inconsequential matters and wonder if this is how it all ends.
The doctor I went to, was an Old School guy since unlike the new breed, he refused to let me have antibiotics at the earliest possible opportunity. He also prescribed tests but again advised me to wait for a day or so. Eventually these tactics led to nothing more than another fevered day, so after much second-guessing of the doctor’s advice, I got tests done and started on the antibiotics. The tests indicated nothing serious but my fever thought otherwise.
In between, we were visited by some relatives – namely a noisy uncle, his brood and a censorious family Elder. My poor mother nearly fell ill with worry after having to manage them and me together. Anyways, all’s well that ends well. Their visit went off beautifully and even I managed a respite from what was declared to be a viral fever (which apparently is plaguing everyone in my city).
After a couple of false starts, I finally began to walk on the road to recovery. The fever weakened and then finally disappeared. I felt pretty weak and zombie-like myself but wild horses couldn’t keep me away from work. I’m just kidding.
Week 2
Getting back to work took some getting used to. A heap of urgent mails, policy meetings, decision-making nightmares and several new projects welcomed me back. I figured hey, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger right? So I rolled up my figurative sleeves and plunged in.
I dealt with the mad rush of phone calls, e-mails, meetings as I dealt with my trembling fingers and constant exhaustion. Somehow, its Friday now and I still live to tell the tale. Yes, I’m working tomorrow also but a weekend is a weekend is a weekend. I’ll still have some time to call my own.
The medicines had killed off my appetite initially and some twisted part of me actually thought that I could benefit from this by not eating out for some weeks to come – thus saving money and watching weight. I am happy to report that things are back on track and I had lunch with a friend at Pizza Hut yesterday. The pasta and pizza have left me yearning for more so am all set to order my beloved Domino’s pizza this weekend.
Also thinking of watching ‘Aisha’. Seems promising. Inspired by Jane Austen’s “Emma”. Alicia Silverstone starrer “Clueless” was also on the same lines and that was good fun. I saw ‘Inception’ and joined the band of those who liked it – gripping, convoluted and the special effects were cool.
Finished reading Ruth Rendell’s novel, ‘Live Flesh’. It was disappointing and depressing. Have borrowed “The Bachman Books” now – a collection of novels that Stephen King wrote under the pseudonym, Richard Bachman. I really like Stephen King’s prose – lucid, graphic and extremely easy to relate to. Not easy to write like that – putting your finger on those half-baked or half-remembered feelings, those sensations that stick like a lump in your throat, those thoughts that one cannot voice. It’s not just about horror.
So, well, now that I’ve shared the latest thrilling episode of Sparkling Supernova and the Mysterious Fever, its time I put my pen down (or should it be its time I stopped clicking on the mouse?). Over and out.
