Flumageddon

Ugh. So sorry for my disappearance. It's been pretty touch and go for me for the last 9 days. And I'm fairly certain that there were a few moments when the Hubs wished I would just succumb to the flu and bite the dust. Kidding, of course, but I could tell that he was done being nurse mate to this shut-in. His "can I get you anything's" went from sincere to looks of sympathy to "I'm going to puke if you ask me to run to the store for more Kleenex/soup/Kleenex/medicine/juice/Kleenex". He was done. So was I.

I've never been a flu shot kind of gal. I like to live on the edge like that, I guess. Not. Any. More. I knew my stance had 100% changed when I was too sick to hold my own head up while sitting at Urgent Care for 2 hours wishing someone would just end it all for me. I was visibly angry at anyone who was not sitting in a pile of their our own snot and cold sweats. Oh, your back hurts? Suck it up, Nancy Boy. Don't you see me hacking up a lung over here?! I consider myself a compassionate person, sometimes to a fault, but I had NO sympathy in that waiting room. It was gonna be every man for themselves. I was prepared to start sneezing on everyone until they caved and left.

And how I knew that I crossed over from a virus to Flumageddon was when the Hubs and I were sitting there watching TV and I just started crying. Not just a few tears, but the scrunched up face sort of cry and all I could muster up was a weak and pathetic "I want my mom." He asked "what can she do for you that I can't?" Good point, Timmy. But sometimes, you just want your mom, even at 35. I knew somehow she'd make it better. I was all out of any other ideas or remedies.

So, friends, my PSA for you is to take one for the team and get a flu shot. Sure, a little virus might seem like a good way to catch up on the Ellen Show and get a day or two off of work, right? Not this dang virus! There's no mercy in that dojo, I assure you. When you're on day 5 of a fever,  you actually contemplate clawing your own throat out with a spoon for some relief from the pain, and at your lowest of lows, you pray somehow the mattress would just fold up around you and you'd sink into a sweaty, smelly sheet oblivion, that flu shot looks like a vacation at Club Med. Trust me. I was about two days away from dreadlocks naturally forming in my hair from lack of showering. It ain't pretty, but I'm honest.

Run, don't walk and get it if you haven't. You'll thank me and so will your poor family who would become your around the clock care takers. You're welcome.