In memory of every head cold I’ve ever had, I’d like to take this opportunity to say how much I’m enjoying breathing through my nose right now. It’s one of those little things that are so easy to take for granted, but when you can’t do it, man it sucks.
While I’m at it, I love that I don’t have a blinding headache at the moment – you know the kind, when all you can do is lie in bed with a bag of frozen peas on your forehead counting down the minutes till it’s time to throw up again. Migraines are real bastards, and I’m really grateful that particular cup of bile has passed me by today.
Let me also note that my urinary tract appears to be in perfect health, my uterus is behaving itself and my digestive tract is firing on all cylinders – and only the cylinders it’s supposed to, not all those extra cylinders that kick in when the bad bacteria comes out for a barn dance and you have to run to the toilet every ten minutes. I had to battle that brand of hell during a three-hour layover in New York City once, made no easier for the fact that my youngest son was small enough to be strapped to my back at the time.
This morning, I ran to the gym, lifted weights and then ran home, but no part of my body is complaining just now. I’m sure I’ll feel something in my biceps tomorrow, but not right this minute.
No, I actually feel fantastic. As far as I know, I’m not harbouring any tumours or viruses or other deadly degenerative crap anywhere in my body and my immune system seems perfectly capable of taking in stride whatever comes its way.
The most amazing thing is that I can take very little credit for my current state of good health. Ok, I try to exercise, but lots of days, life has a way of getting me off track and I miss my workout. During the last round of school holidays, I got hardly any exercise at all for two weeks.
And diet? Forget about it! Yes, I try to eat well – I get plenty of vegetables and I hardly ever eat sweets. But today I broke down and had a mini fried chicken wrap from McDonalds followed by a sausage on WHITE BREAD. (I couldn’t help myself – the local Model Airplane Society was putting on a fundraising sausage sizzle at Bunnings. What was I going to do? NOT support little old men who live to build model airplanes?)
Despite the fact that I probably don’t get enough sleep and I probably drink more red wine than is entirely necessary some evenings, thanks to genetics, a happy healthy childhood and Providence, I’m in as good a shape as anyone could ask for.
So, to whoever is in charge of these things, thanks.