Okay, maybe I was a trifle overconfident about my health last week. Or, not. I can't remember if I said anything, but I know I was reveling in an anticipated return to good health.

Didn't happen. I'm cautiously optimistic today, though. I can distinctly hear a few sounds in my left hear, my head no longer feels like it's stuffed with dirty sweat socks, and for the first time in two weeks, I don't feel feverish.

Eight days. Eight days from today I'm supposed to climb on a plane for my first family vacation in fifteen years. Assuming my sinuses continue to clear, I'm hoping my doctor won't forbid me to fly. The vacation is already paid for. Non-refundably.

I had a minor mental health setback this morning when someone on a list, when asked for "good" fiction, actually recommended two male pregnancy stories, but I deleted the post hastily and tried to forget the words had ever crossed my line of vision. I just don't have the strength.

Fascinating today, aren't I?

I think I'll go read some blogs and see what the rest of the world has been up to since I took a nosedive into my pillow.