The Black Death

I woke up Thursday last week, and thought to myself, “I shouldn’t go in today. I feel terrible.”

But I went in.

Throughout the day, I gradually felt worse. My throat was killing me, I couldn’t swallow anything but the iciest of ice waters, and my breathing was slowly becoming more labored. By the time I got home, I’d made up my mind.

I wasn’t going in Friday.

I figured that if I took a day, and perhaps the weekend, I would be shiny and happy once again come Monday morning. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Friday morning, I woke, groggy and hurting in every joint. I had spent the night mostly awake, sleeping in between involuntary swallows during the night. (The human type person swallows an awful lot of times during sleep – I know this now first-hand.) Swallowing hurt so much, it would awaken me, and I would lay there for 10-15 minutes, trying to pass back out once more.

Repeat as needed.

Friday, my sinuses decided to join the party. Breathing became more restricted, and my head felt like it wanted to spontaneously explode and implode. I faced the beast bravely all day. Well, ok, ‘bravely’ might be a stretch. I faced it more like a frightened child. But I had my wife and puppies to help me through. Very supportive all around, but I was still feeling much like I assume ass would feel if it felt like ass.

The weekend flowed very much the same. Hot sweats, cold sweats, coughing, sneezing, breathing through one nostril. You know the drill. Good Morning, America. Insert Plague symptoms here.

Fast Forward to Monday (because the weekend was packed with ick): Symptoms should be reduced, right? I should be on the mend, right?


My taste buds are wonky. Egg dishes and soup currently are tasting great, but otherwise, I’m somewhat handicapped in the taste category. My body doesn’t know what time of day it is. I’m passing out when I should be awake, and bursting into wakefulness in the middle of the night.

This plague should be over. I want this plague over. Now would be great. At this point, work tomorrow is out of the question. The next day? Up in the air.

How do you end the flu? A flu shot is certainly not the answer.

More soup, please.

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