I’ve been coughed on, hugged by sick children (GET AWAY FROM ME!), and had vomit come close to spattering my shoes this week. I’ve been exposed to the flu, strep throat, and a nasty norovirus going around. Some children and teachers were out for a week with various incarnations of this crap. One of the school workers was hospitalized with double pneumonia. I had a flu shot a little over a week ago. I haven’t had time to build up any immunity.
I had been really looking forward to this weekend. I had big plans, as usual. I was going to separate some lambs out for sale to raise some money. I was going to work on some concrete planter designs. I was going to scrub the house and shampoo the carpet and wash the duck poop off the front porch, and…..then I drove home alternating the A/C and the heat in the truck depending on whether I was shivering or baking.
“Maybe it’s just hot flashes! And allergies!” I lied to myself, trying to breathe through a clogged nose. “I’ll be just fine by morning.”
“Dang, you don’t look so good. Are you getting sick?” asked SwampMan when I walked through the door.
“Maybe.” I replied.
“Well, DON’T! You’ll probably feel better after dinner. Let’s go pick up something.”
So, we went and picked up some BBQ which is sitting in a big heavy lump in my stomach. I think I shall see this meal again. Soon.
In the meantime, daughter called. “Hey, we’ll be there tomorrow!”
My brain was not working. What? “For how long?”
“Is there a time limit or something?”
“No, of course not. What do you mean? Are you moving in?”
“Don’t you remember? SwampSonInLaw is going to be away on drill all weekend, and we were going to come over and work on Halloween costumes.”
“That was this weekend?”
“The party is next weekend, and you’re keeping the kids the weekend
after for our anniversary!”
Oh, right. How did I forget? My sinuses feel like they’re stuffed with cotton. My eyeballs are threatening to pop out. “I’ll call you in the morning and let you know whether I have a fever, because I’m coming down with something.”
Oh, dear. My Mom and brother are supposed to come over Sunday, too, so that we can go shopping for lumber. I need to be vacuuming and mopping and dusting and getting everything presentable for visitors but, after unloading a ton of feed from the back of the truck, I’m not feeling like doing anything but huddling underneath a blanket in my Lazy Chair. The chickens were not fed. I’m SURE I’ll jump up at the crack of dawn, feeling fine, and run outside to feed them then. Right?