Ten days ago, Edna and I were at lunch and I swallowed my Sprite wrong and coughed.
"You're coming down with something" Edna said.
"No- I just swallowed wrong- I'm fine" I smiled.
"No- you're coming down with something".
I brought Edna home and went on to work. Joe came in to take me to dinner about 6pm and I was feeling decidedly light-headed, but not sick. Because I never get the flu.
By the time I drove home at 9pm I was shivering, feverish, and everything hurt. Even my hair. I went directly to bed.
I totally lost Friday. I literally have no recollection of Friday. At all.
I do remember Saturday. It was miserable. I took Meloxicam for the body aches and Tylenol for the fever and headaches and Diphenatrop for the havoc the Meloxicam and Tylenol wreak on my intestines. Also as much Emergen-C as I could siphon into myself in between bouts of coma-like sleeping.
Sunday my fever broke but I still felt like I'd been hit by a truck. A big truck with snow tires on it.
By Tuesday I thought, "If Ward drives, I'm sure I am well enough that we can go to Pam's New Year's Eve Party in Denton tonight. We can drop Sparky off and just visit a few hours and then go to the hotel where I can sensibly go to bed early".
By the time we got to Denton I was over-the-top dizzy and I lasted all of 45 minutes at the party- 44 of them sitting miserably crouched in a corner away from everyone and doing my best not to exhale. I had 4 crackers and some cheese. They were delicious.
I remember briefly waking up when our friends dropped Sparky at the hotel room around 2am. I asked him to turn off the never-ending trucks on the interstate highway right outside the door.
We drove home New Year's Day and I went straight back to bed.
The 2nd I had Ward drive me to work for about an hour, plus a few other necessary errands- he was literally my wheels and feet for all of it, but just that little bit did me in. I think I'm fine and try to do stuff but quickly tire and get dizzy- especially if there is auto travel involved- and I freaking can't keep my eyes open. They actually close of their own accord after losing all focus and directional abilities.
I gave the hell up Thursday night. Decided I'm not going anywhere till Monday. I'm in bed or on the sofa no matter how much it rankles my over-achieving spirit.
And it rankles. Whatever the hell it is that's knocked me on my ass for ten days now rankles.
Because it's not the flu. I never get the flu.
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