So...I was just bragging the other day about how long it's been since I've have the flu. Of course, I promptly came down with the worst cast of the flu I've had in recent memory. I compare the experience to the life-sucking machine in The Princess Bride. For several days, all that worked was my brain--while my aching limbs became useless appendages, I was still able to issue various commands from the couch.
Put the kettle on!
Go buy lozenges!
Warm me some broth!
Get me a blanket!
My husband contentedly went about caring for me as I peered at him through swollen red eyes and spoke through fever-dried lips. It wasn't pretty. Even when I woke him from a dead sleep at 11:00pm to go buy me some cough syrup, he didn't complain.
I know it was like living under a tyrannical dictatorship.
And then Kieran got sick.
If I was tyrannical, Kieran was ruthless.
Read to me!
Read to me some more!
Dance the Fox Trot! (really)
Read to me!
He didn't care that my throat was so sore each story was like munching on a bowl of razor blades. Read, I did.
Anyway, we're on the mend. It's been a long haul but we're all working together to get well...and praying that Mike doesn't get this.