The coughing sickness has been visiting our house over the last 17 days. It started with a fever, a runny nose and a cough and kept going and going, well after the fever subsided. Mr 7 had 4 days off school all up, because the cough was exhausting him, making him cranky and tired, even though there was nothing I could do for him.
A trip to the doctor resulted in a script for Predmix, even though kids over 5 years of age “don’t get croup”. Hello! It sounded very much like croup to me.
The medicine didn’t seem to do much, as the coughing continued, although the intervals between coughs appeared to increase slightly. In the end, it was time and rest that did the trick, as the cough finally began sounding better in the last two days. We used Ventolin, as well, as it seemed to make the boy feel better, even though I couldn’t really tell the difference when he had it.
Still, he’s on the mend now and, luckily, his older brother didn’t catch the lurgy, so all is good again.
In other news, I spoke at a Melbourne Writers Festival event here in Ballarat on Saturday. I know, even writing it now still feels strange. I originally bought a ticket to attend the event, only to receive an email a couple of days later asking me if I was available to take part instead. I spoke about women’s voices, breaking down the mental illness stigma and opening up taboo subjects, like domestic violence. All to do with blogging, power, democracy and freedom.
I found the experience overwhelming, even though the audience was small and I was with friends. Being part of something so big really got to me and I suffered major anxiety in the afternoon, after the event. This was followed by a gloomy, dreary, depressive Sunday, so today I feel emotionally wrung out.
Luckily, today there was sun in Ballarat and a balmy 16 degrees, which helped to lighten my mood, as did a walk and lunch with friends.
In the meantime, I have no idea what I’m doing with this space. Creative writing seems to have jumped out the window and I am left with random words that demand to be written. I need to be talking to someone about the mundane and the tedious that fills my life and it looks as though that someone is you, Internet dear. I hope you don’t mind.