Well, February has somehow disappeared without any blog posts making it out of my head and onto this site. I have a good excuse--really. I had mono. Yes, you heard me right. I know I'm 47 years old. No, I have no idea how I caught it. The only people I kiss on the mouth are my husband and sometimes, when no one is looking, my dog. (The cat won't let me and that stopped feeling like a good way to greet my daughter once she was out of diapers.)
I am, of course, a piano teacher. A small army of puny people march through my living room several times a week, use my potty and play my piano. They represent a dozen different elementary, middle and high schools and many of them have little brothers and sisters who go to another dozen different preschools and mothers-day-outs and frequent parks and playscapes where the equipment is probably sterilized once every decade or so (if we're lucky.) So in any given week I am probably exposed to more germs than many people encounter in a life-time. I am very careful to disinfect the piano keys, doorknobs and bathroom fixtures after my piano students have left for the day. I use so much sanitizer I have to buy in bulk. One never knows where those little fingers have been. I did actually witness a student pick his nose right before playing his piece once. It happens. But apparently, in spite of my usual vigilance some happy little Epstein-Barr virus took up residence and had a party in my throat for more than a month.
I started feeling symptoms right after the Zumba dance party I threw myself for my 47th birthday. I don't know whether there was any connection. I was pretty tired after the dance party, but I'd also had a Tae Kwon Do class right before so I guess that would be a normal reaction. What I do know is that I was certainly tired for far longer than one should be and when I started to feel like a golf ball had lodged itself irretrievably in the back of my throat I finally went to the walk-in clinic where a blood test confirmed the anachronistic diagnosis.
It has not been fun. Even having an excuse to sit on my behind and knit does not compensate for that icky feeling in my throat. I am sick and tired of cough drops. I am sick and tired of sitting. I am, well, sick and tired. So much for the "I will write a blog post every week without fail" plan. Oh well. In any endeavor worth doing set-backs are inevitable. This one really kicked my butt.
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