I’d say 2018 is not off to a stupendous start. The good news is that it can only get better from here, right? That’s me attempting to be positive and look on the bright side. You see, my good friend found herself in the emergency room on New Year’s Day, one of my volunteers was admitted to the hospital for 2 days and then a friend was rear-ended on the freeway and the driver took off, leaving her with whiplash and a smashed car. Happy New Year?
Then I, who rarely get sick, started with a sore throat on the 4th. No big deal. But on the 5th, a headache came to the party, followed by Mr. Dizzy. On the 6th, by the time I got home late in the day, I wanted to sleep for a full week. Now don’t get me wrong. I didn’t actually do that. It was more like a solid 3 days.
I’m someone who feels guilty if I’m not doing something productive. But when this virus hit, asking me to stay awake was like expecting me to compete in and then win the Women’s Slalom at the Winter Olympics. Totally absurd. Just making it upstairs without crawling was a challenge. Yep, this was the sickest I’ve been and apparently I’m not alone. Some awful virus has invaded most everyone I know.
My poor animals. They had no idea what was wrong, but seeing me in bed all day meant they were in bed all day too. Lots of sleeping going on at my house. I was no fun — cold one minute, sweating the next, nauseous, no appetite (the only perk from this thing), burning eyes…everything on my body hurt except my earlobes. Even my teeth ached.
Three precious days are gone forever, lost in the cosmos while I snoozed. I’d wake up, click through the TV channels, then nod off again. Reading was out of the question. I couldn’t focus for more than a moment. Needing to feed my pets in the morning and again in the evening was my only must do of the day. Getting myself downstairs to do that was more challenging than biking through Cape Cod.
On day four I began to feel a little better so I graduated from bed to the sofa downstairs. This meant my pets also joined me there. On the sofa, that is. They were very clingy at this point. Yes, it was a bit more cramped than on my king size bed. Let’s call it cozy. I had no leg room. Or arm room. Or any room. But there you have it.
By this point I’d run out of the dogs’ canned food I normally mix with their kibble. Since they look at me in horror if I attempt to give them naked kibble, I resorted to offering them the cats’ canned food. They inhaled it like it was freshly grilled sirloin steak.
Friends kept in touch to see if I needed anything but my appetite was MIA. (Needed to lose those extra holiday pounds anyway.) Friends, Tony and Annette, own Bayside Cafe in Sausalito and they insisted on feeding me, kindly supplying me with soup, spaghetti and quesadillas.
As I write this, I’m on day seven, the first day I’ve ventured out. I lasted 4 hours before heading home for a nap. Progress! Each day I’m stronger and coughing less. The bad news is, my appetite has returned in full force and then some. Everything looks and tastes good. Even Lima beans. And I hated Lima Beans. What’s happening here?
Now if you’ll pardon me, I’m sensing it’s time to stuff my face again. Bon Appetit.