The Flu Can and Will Knock Me On My Ass

Last week, I caught a flu. And I have not been that sick in a long time.

I get a flu shot every year, including this year. And it usually works. I'm a big fan of flu shots. I've got a lot to do, and I don't like being sidelined. I'd rather lose an hour to a doctor's appointment than lose a week to feeling miserable.

But this year, I got to lose both. And it was not pretty. I was a fever-ridden, sweaty, shivery, miserable ball of stinky, sleeping human. For FOUR STRAIGHT DAYS. I would get up every morning with Moodle, feed and clothe her, and get her to school. I would power through good-byes until she finally let go of my hand every morning, then somehow made it home to collapse, and sleep until the late afternoon. I would defrost something from the freezer for dinner as Max Powers took over pickup, cleanup, bathtime, and bedtime by himself. Once Moodle was in bed (with no storytime help from me), I'd wait until the time when I could safely take my next dose of nighttime cold medicine, wave miserably at my husband from a safe distance, and retreat back to bed, to toss and turn and ride out my fever until I passed out from whatever it is they put in that stuff to make you sleep.

It was hell. I missed my family, and I felt horrible.

This week, I'm over the fever and the other stuff, but I still feel so drained. I'm back at work, but I do not feel sparkly. And Max leaves again tonight for a meeting. At least no one caught it but me.

Fingers crossed no one does. Yuck.