Me.
I win that horrible award.
I am the worst sick person in the world, not because what ails me is terminal, but because what
ails me makes everyone around me miserable. If I am coughing or sneezing or feverish or headache-y or toothache-y, you're going to hear about it.
My poor husband. He is out of town now, on business.
Or is he?
Maybe he just needed to get away.
***
Hoarse Haiku:
My poor sweet husband
Is sick of my complaining
Is divorce coming?
I must be dying
Didn't read patient info
Just swallowed the pills.
What fresh hell is this?
How much snot can one nose make?
Can a cold kill me?
***
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