It was just a matter of time before illness struck. On Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday Ron was severely slammed with a head cold. He hasn't been down with anything in a long time, despite brief interludes of: "I feel like shit." and off to the recliner he would go. But when he goes to bed and stays there all day, something's up.
Did I mention what a terrible patient he is/was?
Two weeks ago he had his first cataract removed. Pretty minor but necessary. The eyedrops have been a living-breathing-torture-nightmare for me. Not him, ME! Because I am the applicator person, he is the recipient. I tend to follow the doc's orders (two times, three times a day, etc.) and he prefers to do things his way. "That enough" would be a frequent response to my suggestion when it was time for more drops.
"Do you have to get so close with the dropper?" another complaint. "OH honey, let me toss this drop across the room and with any luck it will hit that left eye while it's open."
If it were my eyes, I would never deviated, one iota, from the prescribed plan. "Please dear God let my vision be the last to go."
Back to sick boy: his first thought after this cold struck was he had hantavirus, because the day before he helped his friend clean out his unused lake cottage.
"How come Richie didn't get it?" comment the wise and wonderful Mrs. Davis.
"Cuz he is rat shit."
I did think for awhile he may have influenza, H1N1 is suppose to be out and about in this area. But it soon became evident it was just a darn good head cold. Once again, he refused to try any OTC's to aleviate the symptoms. All he wanted to do was go to the doctor and "get something to get rid of it."
Did I miss the news alert there is still no cure for the common cold?
It's Friday morning, he lived and is flitting around like the old Ronson Bronson.
Guess who is now sporting "the cold?"
