Sleep was crowded with bad dreams last night: a house with entrances I didn't know about (and water flooding them) and a bizarre sequence where someone dripped iodine (yes, iodine) on my left thumb and it shrank to the size of a baby's, with a point on top. Very strange. Woke up headachy and with my throat raspy, but dutifully got dressed and checked on Pidgie. He blinked at me like the owl he's named after. I was still worried.

My solution was to go back to bed. If he was okay still while James puttered around getting ready for work, I'd go in late.

Except when I got up again the headache was worse, I was becoming "better acquainted with" the hall bathroom, and worst of all, I couldn't get warm. The house temp was steady at 67°F and I was ice cold and shaking uncontrollably, which was really weird after constant hot flashes.

So Pidge returned last night's care by singing to me most of the day while I huddled on the sofa trying to keep warm, even as it went up into the low 70s this afternoon. I slept most of the afternoon between bouts of ibuprofin (from the new bottle of caplets from BJs; the pills are fluorescent orange—yow!).

I wish I knew what happened. All I can thing of is what with it being warm the past few days and my wretched hot flashes and the windows being wide open, he got a draft on Friday or Saturday and it finally hit him. Budgies can take a bit of cold but drafts hurt them.

I'm still a bit headachy but at least the "Little Room" visits and sore throat are gone.

Labels: pets, sickness

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 8:38:00 PM

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