No time outs

I'm breathing through the mouth.  Because the nose is stuffed.

In the middle of four days of depositions in Vancouver WA. Get sick the night before I leave Seattle.  For the first day pretend I'm just fine.  This works only in my own mind.

We are in a large windowless court reporter's room in a converted machinery shop.  Three tables are fashioned together.  At one end sits the witness, the court reporter, me and the main defense lawyer Nic.  Next to me is my wonderful co-counsel Gordon who has flown in from Wisconsin.  Everyone else piles around down at the other end as far from the germ blower as they can be.  There are anywhere from seven attorneys on up in that room, plus insurance folk, risk managers, the guardian.

These depositions have been scheduled for months.  This means - can't be sick.  The court reporter brings me a giant box of tissue.  I steadily plow through it, tossing the crumpled sheets one by one into the black garbage can around the corner to my right.

The first day I feel pretty good "not" being sick.  The nose is a faucet but otherwise, no problem.  Decide to get some sudafed that evening.  No luck - in Oregon you need a doctor's prescription.  Thanks meth dealers.  Get some nyquil, pick up some bad Chinese food, go for a short run on the treadmill and call it a night before eleven.  This isn't a good sign.

Day two.  Wake up to snow that doesn't stick.  The non-sickness is still hanging around.  Nose isn't pouring quite so heavily.  Instead bad stuff appears to have taken residence inside my head.

Go back to the deposition dungeon. Three first responders are being deposed in the morning.  Feels like I'm underwater.  Sometimes my ears are plugged.  When it comes time to watch the video transcripts, you'll be able to hear me ah-chooing.  It is miserable.  Can't think very well.  Slog ahead.  Suspect tomorrow its going to be worse.

Day three.  Yep, it's worse.  It's so bad that am not going to blog about it other than to say.  Good thing hotel is next door to court reporters.  Because have to come back to room to lie down every time there's a break.

Day four.  Two more to go.  Actually feel a little better.  But not much.  Finish them off, then somehow manage to drive three hours home.  Hit the bed.  And recover over the weekend.