I am sick unto death.
As much as I realize my statement is melodramatic, I really do feel like I’m on the verge of the great hereafter. Actually, it’s possible I’m already dead and I’m writing this as zombie Kay. The craving for brains hasn’t set in yet, but I admit I’m short tempered enough to knock over a small child or an old lady for something made with real chocolate, which is close enough. It also feels like at least one of my limbs could fall off at any moment, given how badly all my joints are aching. If you find a leg with a size five and a half foot on the end, please send it on back to me. My toenails are painted a caramel colour, if that gives you a point of reference.
In all, it’s a misery and I’m a big whiny baby this week. My apologies.
My beloved missed two days of work last week with a nasty cold/flu virus, and I got sick a few days after he started feeling better. I didn’t feel as bad as I expected to. I figured I’d gotten lucky and just got a milder version of his illness. Little did I know my two days of aches, chills, and mucous were just the warm up act for the freight train that ploughed through my immune system this last weekend.
To sum up, my head seems to weigh sixty-plus pounds right now, and my ears throb while somehow blocking enough sound that I feel like I’m submerged in a pool. Just for fun, I also have a fever that keeps dropping in like that neighbour who can’t seem to take a hint. The best part, though? I woke up in the middle of night last night because something was dripping on my shoulder: the source of the drip was my nose. Shudder. All my joints hurt, even my baby pinky toes, and no amount of Advil Cold and Sinus seems to alleviate my aches. I’m also off balance, probably from a combination of the weirdness in my ears and all the medication.
Note to concerned readers: I don’t take the drugs until after I’ve driven to work so they can’t interfere with my ability to pilot the SUV. Then I don’t take any more until I’m home. This is responsible near-fatal flu, my friends.
The Electrician has been
pressuring encouraging me to stay in bed until I’ve recovered. While I managed to stay home yesterday, missing work two days out of this week will put me so far behind that I stand very little chance of catching up before report cards. I’m lucky my man takes good care of me, but I can’t afford to be home right now. I guess it’s one of those things about my job.
I have a full litre of foam hand sanitizer on my desk at work. Actually, after today I have about three quarters of a bottle of sanitizer on my desk. I’m setting a good example for the kiddies by trying to corral my germs. I also took my own box of fancy Puffs tissues to work because the ones the school provides create a sort of road rash on a sick person’s nose. There are times when I will allow myself to lapse into snobbery, and I’m just fine with using the premium kleenex if it means keeping at least some skin in the middle of my face. I haven’t touched anything that isn’t mine, and I’m giving everyone a wide berth to keep this plague as contained as possible.
I’m spoiled by The Electrician, who put me to bed after work and looked after things around the house, including dinner, while I rested. Somehow, being sick is a wee bit more tolerable when someone awesome takes care of you.
I think he’s also feeling just a little twinge of guilt. He is the one who brought this thing home, after all. It’s a good thing he’s cute and charming.
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