I felt it in the back of my throat Friday afternoon. I hoped it was just one of those weird scratchy things that occasionally happens as the result of my poor personal life choices. But it wasn’t just that. By Friday night, I knew I was getting sick. By Saturday morning, I had just enough strength to join Lynnette and Madison on a Toys R Us/Costco run because there were heavy things to be purchased and then carried up the stairs of our home. By Saturday afternoon I was passed out in the bedroom; I woke up with a fever. I’ve spent the better part of the last two days on my back. I was so miserable yesterday that the Cowboys overtime loss didn’t even phase me. In fact, when the Saints kicker missed the potential game-winner near the end of regulation, I shouted “He missed!” then coughed for a solid 7 seconds. I then said “You guys are just going to break my heart later, anyway,” I said. I was right.
Lynnette made the executive decision that I would sleep in Madison’s room Saturday night. I understood completely. It would be horrible if one or both of my wife and daughter were to also get sick over this break. But still, I was sick and left to fend for myself in a non-air-conditioned room. Only Abby came to hang out with me before she trotted off back to the air-conditioned bedroom. Even Sunday when I napped before the Cowboys game, Abby popped in and out. Madison was pretty good, too. But she was ordered by Lynnette to stay away from me. Why doesn’t my family love me?
I never get sick. I don’t think I’ve taken a sick day at work since 2012. It’s a point of pride. Well, this is the sickest I’ve felt in a very long time. I’ve been taking Tylenol or Advil every three hours just to tamp down the headaches and fever. My hair is flustered; it doesn’t know what to do without product in it. My body temperature seemed to fluctuate every ten minutes. This, right now, is the best I’ve felt since Friday. I don’t want to jinx it, but I hope the worst is over. But I know it’s not.
Because the worst part of this entire ordeal has been Lynnette’s relentless I-told-you-so-ing in terms of the flu shot I didn’t bother to get. Why did I need it? I never get sick. Lynnette’s been so great, though. She set alarms at night so she could get my medication since I’ve been completely incapacitated by this stupid sickness. In fact, she woke me up early this morning at 3 for the Tylenol and told me to take it. A few minutes later, she yelled at me to go take it. “Didn’t I?” I said. “No!” she said. I HAD A FREAKING DREAM THAT I TOOK THE TYLENOL. At 6 this morning she handed me Advil but I fell asleep. “Is the Advil still in your hand?” she asked a few minutes later. “Huh?” I said. “Please take it so Abby doesn’t eat it,” she said. It was still in my hand. I took it. Please, let this be the last day of this nonsense.