Sleeping and Fairy Rings

My life can  be summed up by something that happened when Stefan was visiting us. He and I are sitting in the bank, waiting for the lone bank officer so Stefan can buy one of those 8 percent CDs when a woman came up to us and spoke to me.

Lady: Spanish Blah Blah Blah (spoken so rapidly I got maybe one of out of every three words)
Me: Nicht verstahen (German for I do not understand)
Stefan: bursting out in laughter says 'Why did you answer in German?'

Because that is where my brain always goes. My brain has decided that German is my bedrock foreign language and will route me to it every time if I'm not paying any mind to it.

The last few days have been pretty horrible. I picked up something that filled my lungs with fluid and caused me to cough bark every few minutes. Last night after five days I drug my ass off to the doctors offices. Unlike the states you can see a doctor here 24 hours a day 7 days a week. It took a long time even if there were no emergencies of decapitated digits or sea urchin stings for a change.

I have a two-fer, whooping cough I've picked up from some  not vaccinated child. Not my first rodeo with this. Being on immunio suppressors means I have picked it up twice in the States. It got me that delicious cough syrup that is essentially ground up vicodins in a sticky sweet sauce.

The other part is bronchial pneumonia. Just five days from a tickle in my throat to being Typhoid Annie.

Today I was every bit as confused as the day I answered in German.  I slept all night, I slept most of the day. Hell, I fell asleep watching a rerun of 'Dance Moms' if that tells you anything. Abby's yelling put me to sleep.

But I'm up now, feeling marginally better, crunching and munching some delicious raisin bread toast from the German bakery, hoping to stay awake long enough to fold clothes and pick up all the snotty kleenex forming fairy circles around my desk, the sofa and my bed. Life is good.

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