my fever fluctuated within the range of 37.9 to 38.4 degrees celcius last night but it was a mere 37.6 just before i closed my eyes & surrendered to sleep around 1am. However, when i woke up at 8am this morning, the fever was once again in the 38 degrees range & thus my mom (may god bless her motherly heart) decided to bodily drag me out of bed to see the doctor despite my protestations. i thought seeing the doctor would only be a waste of money since 1) there's nothing that he's gonna say which i dont know already and 2) there are tons of panadol at home & i dont need a doctor to give me anymore or any other medications from the same paracetamol "family." Thankfully, he did not give me anything like that; only some bufren tablets for my headache.. but other than that, i thought the trip to the clinic wasnt of much benefit...
so my day was spent pretty much in supine position wif a cold damp cloth on my forehead... but i kept having this vision of my weak, fragile body lying comatose on a hospital bed; too high a fever can have devastating consequences, u know.. brain cells may die -- resulting in an impaired nervous system. Vision may be affected too.. i could go blind! Thus, since being a living vegetable or losing my sight are both pretty much undesirable at this point in time, i was determined to recover from my malaise at all costs~! grass jelly, starfruit juice, coconut juice.. i've had them all! and i drink litres and litres of plain water... so i guess my fever will go away in no time. ;-)
lately, i think i've spent too much time thinking but getting nothing done (NATO aka No-action-talk-only). but then, i've never been much of a straight-forward character & i tend to put on a facade of indifference when the going gets too tough... *haiz* i think i'm afraid but i'm not too sure of what... Perhaps all this mental turmoil may have sparked my fever... fact or paranoia; who knows??
anyhow, just the other day, i was reading my book on poetry and came across this piece by Emily Dickinson;
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant --
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind --
It's one of my perennial favorites, having studied Emily Dickinson way back during my uni days. There's just something about Dickinson poems that are so refreshing.. and i think i can identify with her works most of all. oh well..
my home telephone is abit cranky today; it rings only when it wishes to... the result of which is that my aunties who were calling couldnt get through to my mom. Cranky phones which dont ring when they should are destined for the rubbish chute. on the other hand, there's still hope for handphones that dont ring but still can vibrate (i.e. like mine) ;-)
