As you can probably tell from the title, I had the flu this week. Not just any kind of flu mind you… but a MASSIVE flu. The kind that you remember for years to come. I know this because the last time I had the flu this bad, it was just after Christmas of 98. I was so sick that come New Year’s Eve, I dared not drink (NO! say it ain’t so!) and it was also the night that Dan & I got engaged (awwwwww). I really shouldn’t complain about getting it since I haven’t had it in so long, but I can so I will.
This flu was the debilitating kind. The kind that makes you think you are dying and/or wish for death. In between the violent shakes of your body emptying itself, you have a few moments to ponder when exactly did you contract this horridness. Is it the flu? Is it food poisoning? When did I accidently lick a chicken breast coated with salmonella as if it were a popsicle? Or have I managed to spontaneously acquire a random strain of Ebola Zaire on a shopping cart? Maybe you don’t picture yourself as having Ebola, but when I feel like my intestines are liquifying, that’s what I turn to.
But it wasn’t Ebola… don’t think food poisoning either since my neighbor got it the same night I did. And I also had a small fever which rumor has it, is key to NOT having food poisoning. As if it matters what the hell I had. I just don’t ever want it again. Thank the dear lord for my in laws who told me I had no choice but to come to their house and stay. I’m pretty sure I was severly dehydrated by the time they got here and I must have looked bad enough to scare them. Or maybe they just aren’t used to looking at me with no makeup and I’m that scary without it. Whatever the case, I greatly appreciated it. I could barely walk anymore and crying alone while rocking next to the toilet was getting old. Honestly, I was so bad. I couldn’t even produce saliva anymore. How sad is that? Pretty sad folks, pretty sad.