In sickness…

The greatest wealth is health ~ Virgil

I’m not a good patient. I’m sure that is surprising to exactly none of you. I bring this up since the last three days have been spent in a haze of headache, sleep, and other less ah, pleasant, pursuits. Since Sunday, I have eaten four slices of dry white toast. No, that’s not correct.  Three slices of dry white toast and one buttered slice (the buttered one was this morning to see if I could “tolerate” it; so far so good). As I write this, I am having my first dose of caffeine since Sunday. Sunday people! It’s Wednesday! Afternoon!

I have missed three days of work (they really are the best!) and up until 15 minutes ago, had decided that there would be no blog entry this week. Perhaps the caffeine is starting to work, or the butter! Bacon would probably make me a superstar!

Usually I can suck it up and soldier on. Not this time. Whatever this thing is, it’s nasty and vicious.

Whoa, ugly wave of nausea there AND a brand spanking new headache! Thank you, Jesus!

Just when you think you’re starting to feel just the slightest bit human, it turns back around and doubles down on the misery.

Two of us are down now; it got Emma yesterday. She had a long, brutal night and her day isn’t faring much better.

Yikes, just had to sneeze and forgot to brace myself for the pain! (TMI Alert: Body hurts from so much vomiting)

I’m seriously hoping that this skips the guys. I haven’t managed much more than sleeping, sipping ginger ale and going to the bathroom. I can’t imagine what will happen to the menfolk. They’ll probably devolve back to fetuses.

I’m keeping my disinfected fingers crossed…

(I’ll be back next week hopefully better… stronger… faster)

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