My goodness I've been a slacker when it comes to blogging these past couple of weeks. My excuse: I've been a little bit poorly and totally lacking in the energy to do almost anything, and that even includes eating which means I really must have been properly poorly. I picked up a nasty cold almost four weeks ago now and it's still hanging around; I just can't seem to shift it. It probably doesn't help that I can't take any cold/flu remedies except paracetamol and hot honey & lemon drinks (which I have imbibed by the gallon.) I even lost my sense of taste/smell over the Xmas period and couldn't taste one single mouthful of the fabulous Xmas dinner that hubby had slaved over. I was really disappointed since pigs in blankets and bread sauce really only come around once a year. I also had absolutely no energy and thus Xmas was spent sitting/lying around doing very little and feeling extreeeeemely sorry for myself. I did summon up the energy to unwrap my Xmas pressies, but had to revisit them several days later since I was so out of it on Xmas Day that I couldn't really remember what I'd been given. Not good at all. And then, on Boxing Day, hubby caught The Cold (it deserves capital letters) too and we have been playing cough tennis ever since (but suffice to say, my cold is definitely much worse - it's me who has the man flu this time.)
Had my 31 week appointment at the doc's on Friday; she noted The Cold and thus had a listen to my chest through her somewhat chilly stethescope. Apparently it sounds worse in my cough than it does on my chest, however it doess appear to have contributed somewhat to raising my pulse rate above what is considered normal. A 'fit' person (not that I am claiming to be in that category) would have a resting pulse rate of 70-something. Anything over 80 is considered unfit. Mine was a stonking 132! It's a miracle my poor little heart hasn't burst.
And now, here we are in 2009. Christmas is over, New Year isn't so new any more and it's back to work. But only for six more weeks. Come tomorrow, it's only eight weeks til Delightful Child is due. Now there's a scary thought...
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Eight weeks?! No no no. That can't be right. No.
ReplyDeleteUm, anyway, thisisjusttosay, I'm having a girl - white bread cravings or no. (Had to keep my comments box secret-free, for the sake of the mother-in-law, so I'm answering you here.) And thanks for your comment.
:-)