Sick Day Continued

How did sick people pass their achey, feverish time before the invention of television? Don't you dare told me they'd read a book. I love reading but when my head feels like it's stuffed with wet wool focusing on the written word is out of the question. Not to mention I need my hands free to rip the blanket and my clothes off and on repeatedly as my body temperature fluctuates between fever spikes and chills. How then, if I can't read, how then am I writing this blog? I'm not sure I really am writing it or if this is another fever dream. If it is a dream, that would explain why there is a baby tiger on my lap and a marching band upstairs. If not a dream, I need to move out of this house. STAT.