It was fun to see them, and fun to hang out, but the aftermath was tough.
As dinner was winding up, I came down with a very bad chill. No shakes, no fever, nothing else along the lines of the opening salvo of a cold or flu. Just a bone-deep chill, and incredible fatigue. I wound up having to go off to bed and lie down under the blankets, the electric one cranked up all the way to high. After about an hour or an hour and a half, as I was finally falling miserably asleep, the chill abated somewhat.
This is the third or fourth time I’ve had one of these “cold flashes” in the past month. I’m suspecting ever more strongly this is a precursor of my body’s functional breakdown in the end stages of my terminal cancer. They come on when I am tired, underfed, or otherwise stressed, but they are neither predictable nor obvious. At least not yet.
It scares me, and it wears me out hard.