I Need a Butler...

I don't get sick a lot, thank god. But when I do I can turn into a little kid. But hey, I'm male. You girls have to deal with pain on a regular basis and learn how to cope with it. Us guys? We can tolerate a laceration on our arm 5 inches long or say a good thwack to the head, but if it's some low level, grinding chronic misery...forget it. We're “tough” because we can tolerate a huge amount of acute, instant pain, but not the day after day variety.

I can thank T.L. For coughing his brains out last Friday while were playing Trivia. I sort of wondered then if I'd catch it. Well, no need to wonder now. I knew there was something wrong when I woke up two days ago with that sore throat, which in hours shot up my nose, into my lungs and felt like it settled into every muscle in my shoulders and thighs. Ugh. It's still surprises me how your own immune system can make you feel like crap. It's in the process of slaughtering ten's of thousands of viruses and while doing battle, it's beating me up as well.

The problem here is that I live alone with a dog. There is no one to do the daily work around the house when I'm laid up. Today, I woke up early to take the dog out, fed him and whatnot and then promptly went back to bed. Dishes in the sink? So what. Dog track mud onto the kitchen floor? Screw it, I'll clean it up later. Perhaps MUCH later.

Here's a funny (and I don't mean to be gross) story about being sick. When I worked in the nursing home, I got to try out the latest version of the Norovirus at times. At that time there were 80 genetic variants and you have to try each one on before you get immune to them all. If you've never had it, you don't want experience it. It won't kill you in the least but you swear that you are dying. It makes you feel you ran a Marathon, puking the whole way.

I came home from work one night and for some reason, I just sat down at the kitchen table and rested my head on it. I was dead tired but so much so I didn't question why. I just fell asleep there. At 10 pm, I woke up, sitting there, sort of half dazed from being so wiped out and I started to feel that grumbling in my stomach.

“Oh no...oh no...I can't have it...can I? It's sickened patients at work now, but do I have...” My self talk ended quick as I had to run to the bathroom.

I made it, but with my head nearly into the toilet bowl and puking, I thought this to myself.

“OH SHIT..I HATE THIS...I HATE THIS...AND NOT ONLY DO I HAVE THE NOROVIRUS, THE 2000 FLUSHES CONTAINER NEEDS TO BE REPLACED!”

Ugh...nice time to find out the 2000 Flushes canister in the top tank was empty.

For the next three days, nothing got done in my house. I managed to take care of the dog but barely.

These past few days are like that. Nothing has been done. But thank god it's not the norovirus.