I've dragged myself out of my sick bed (or off the sick chesterfield, if I'm being truthful) to scribble another entry for Holidailies.

To recap the past few days: the 24th was spent wrapping and baking! A magnificent Challah and a dessert for Boxing Day called Pineapple Delight. And it truly is delightful. My SIL called a week ago to let me know everyone had gathered to create the menu and I had been assigned dessert. Oh, and this year it was NOT to involve any CHOCOLATE. This made me wonder whether I'm viewed as something of a One Trick Pony and spurred me on to plumb the depths of my recipe box for something to satisfactorily fit the bill.

Christmas Morn: up at 0530 (since the dogs don't know from holidays), puttering around the kitchen but hesitant to attempt any cleaning up because I can't do it in any sort of quiet fashion. When The Boy got up around 0630, the tea was steeping and he, at 43, was rarin' to open gifts before anything else. It's cute. Considering my tenuous financial situation I did okay for him: organic cashew butter, beautiful new slippers, a shaper set from Lee Valley (for his woodworking) and a book/dvd set on Eric Clapton, guaranteed to please.

Early afternoon found us on the road to Mom and Dad's. We were an hour late, but still an hour and a half ahead of my sister and her family. The day was pleasant; lovely gifts, great food and none of the constant cacophony we find at any of The Boy's gatherings. I ate too much and felt wholly uncomfortable for about half an hour, although from that I think I understand that the past six months at the gym has profoundly changed me and my body is now trying to force my brain out of its old bad habits of overeating.

As we drove home, I noticed a slight throb in my throat. At home, I began a routine of spraying tincture of Echinacea directly onto the affected area, but it was already too late.

Four a.m. Tuesday found me hacking and coughing and unable to breathe, a condition that only got worse as the day wore on. Now came the time to ask the question: should I go to The Boy's family's Christmas celebration?

Ordinarily, it wouldn't bother me to overmedicate and show up for the festivities looking relatively human. This year, it's different because my BIL is currently on a transplant list, waiting for an acceptable liver. He's a shadow of his former self and due to the drugs he's taking his immune system is virtually nonexistent. If I were to make him sick, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. So I helped The Boy pack the truck with gifts aplenty and my fabulous Pineapple Delight and sent him off to enjoy. My symptoms only got worse, but I couldn't sleep for any amount of time because I had to keep boiling the kettle for tea to keep the fluids moving. God forbid these evil fluids submit to gravity and settle in my chest where everything would turn to concrete, causing me to hack and cough for at least the next two weeks.

I've been enjoying some older dvds (Sideways, The Princess Bride and Love, Actually) and glancing pitifully at the overflowing plate of goodies I can't eat. Mainly because I'm trying to stay away from the mucus-inducing dairy but also there's the added annoyance of my taste buds going on a strike of some kind. I can't taste anything. Gah.

I guess that brings me up to today. Still on the chesterfield, still with a full head, still contemplating cancelling yet another session with my personal trainer because I can barely lift my mug of tea, let alone a medicine ball.

Okay, more tea now.

This has been an ailing Holidailies entry.

Posted at 10:11 a.m.