Tuesday night, I was coughing my lungs out, my nose was stuffy and I felt tired and achy all over. What if this was a severe allergic reaction to my kitten? Rowdy asked me if it was worth it to keep Ollie. All I could do was burst into tears, because I would feel horrible if we had to do that. He loves us, and we love him.
So like a five-year-old, I prayed to either get better or know what was going on. In the middle of the night, I woke up and realized that it was a bad cold, not allergies. Wednesday morning, I was talking to one of my techs, who told me that the same virus was going around our department.
I'm grateful to be able to pray like a five-year-old and have that prayer answered. I'm grateful that I have a cold and will eventually feel better. I'm grateful that we don't have to give Oliver up just yet.
I'm also grateful for soup. I had a Tom Yum soup from the neighborhood fast-Thai place for lunch, and Rowdy made his fabulous chicken soup for dinner.
I'm grateful for cold medicine and for my section chief who covered my cases in the afternoon. I'm very grateful that our workload wasn't bad at all for a change.
I'm grateful for my sweet husband, as always.
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