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i hate to announce it, but scott's superman, impermeable, ultra-resilient immune system finally got a stab in the heart. like smog the dragon's one missing link in his armor, scott's immune system finally, and unexpectedly, gave up after nearly 6 weeks of competing with armies of korean-style viruses (especially mine, i'm afraid). i was sad for him, but misery must love company, as they say, for i do love to snuggle up with him in bed as we try and fight off the blues together. we laugh and tell stories and imagine that we're in a cabin, snowed in, on some stormy Christmas night, and all we can do is huddle together to stay warm. that makes us feel less insane laying there all day, knowing there isn't much else we can do here but submit. submit to the sickness and let it run its course. when scott can't sleep, i read him "Lord of the Rings" (the silver screen countdown is near its end, having started IMMEDIATELY after the first film came out last year) under our buzzing (and now blinking) last flourescent light in our dim apartment. All the others have long since shorted out, and we've concluded that fix-it people don't exist in this country. they wait until you're completely in the dark, and then they'll come replace the entire fixture (or so the legends say--we have yet to actually see one). so we're waiting for that last bulb to finally blink its last so that we can maybe get someone to come around and get us some light. in the meantime, we curl up together and laugh at how we've become such the old couple, passing the Vicks at night and groaning and moaning about our hips or our backs come first thing in the morning. luckily for scott, his immune system has already kicked back in, and on day 3, he has regained much lost ground. he's good like that. i'm hoping my system takes good notes. oh, and if you've never seen scott sick, then you've missed out. the hair, first of all. the hair. oh my. i absolutely love it, but it does surround his head like giant rays of the sun, and the curls become very tight and perky. he looks like annie at a sleepover, but much bigger and browner. and then he becomes very happy. yes, it's true: happy. he seems to so easily submit to the fact that he's sick, and he just enjoys it and makes the best of it. he sings little songs and whistles and even takes the time to rub my neck when i feel especially dismal. he is a darling person, kind to the last little sick cell. Pass the Vicks, ck [2002-12-09]
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