There should be a halt button on blogs with a hand in your face that asks if you're whiny before they let you in. Don't say I didn't warn you. Go ahead and change the channel. I may still be whining when you return but chances are I'll be over myself by then. At least temporarily. We can always hope.
Seven years ago I had an episode of Bell's Palsy. It's never really gone away. Today one half of my face is tingling like I've been to the dentist and if I look in the mirror it has itself a mild case of dropsy. Having it flare like this is like getting a tap on the shoulder, reminding me to take better care of myself.
Dearest one is beside me listening to Supertramp as I type. A song that starts out with whistling. I turned to him and said, "Oh, are you whistling?" I've never heard a person whistle who wasn't also cheerful and I thought maybe some of his mood would rub off on me. Dearest one starts the song over half a dozen times and sometimes whistles along just to confuse me. I turn to him every time and catch him whistling once. Eventually I tell him to stop messing with my head. The half that still moves anyway.
Youngest son is in the livingroom watching mana depleting television.(Diablo fanatics live here) That's what we call it in our house. A year ago, when I was in a chronic pain group, I learned of a study which found people subjected to violence on tv had depleted immune systems for 2 hours afterwards and conversely when they watched something uplifting their immune systems got a boost for the same time. I don't really enjoy violent shows but that was motive enough for me to stop watching them altogether.
It's slowly dawning on me as I type that your immune system may be under attack from reading my blog today. However, if you whistle while you read, there's a chance you'll come out even.