A full night's sleep. No dealing with the hot and cold. No running to the toidy. No waking up and wanting to hit the sack again or at least needing to with a heavy aching head. A full night's sleep... something we all take for granted until it is snatched away for some reason or another. I finally got one last night.

Whatever this was it hit me hard. Oh, I'm still not out of the woods yet (still a wee wobbly on my feet too) but I do spy evidence of the meadow up ahead. I used to be a sickly child. Then from early adulthood till now didn't got sick rarely (I count allergies more of an environmental affliction than illness) but when I do catch a cold or some other thing... it hits hard. I have come to consider it as a reminder of our mortality... a reminder of making the best of what we have... and what we have left.

And why stale cigarettes, Lecram? I saw getting sick as an opportunity to quit smoking. Cigarettes taste the foulest when one is ill. Case and point... there is a pack sitting in front of me that was purchased on Sunday. Only 7 had been smoked... and stale cigarettes are the absolute vilest tasting things in the world. Here's hoping enough of the physical addicting toxins have also been purged from my system.

I think that's a lot to count.

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