So my husband got sick early last week. And since I'm such a polite Canadian I did the only proper thing to do and joined him in his misery.
We're polite but not masochists. (Please realize that I can only speak for myself and my Pug, Zoe. It is normal that I speak for my Pug right?)
Despite my very best efforts trying to avoid his flu by;
throwing his food at him from the hallway,
communicating with him through my Hazmat suit,
making him sleep on the single bed in the guest room with plastic covering the entire room Dexter style,
Don't worry…I let him sleep on top of the plastic covered bed, not on the floor. I'm not cruel.
telling him to go to the bathroom outside or go to the neighbour's, (what? it's not that cold outside)
having a constant IV drip of hand santizer attached to my sleeve and using it so often that my hands now look like Madonna's. Actually maybe my hands looked like that already. (Silently weeping.)
it happened anyhow.
It only took me 4 days to catch this super flu.
Somehow looking back it feels like I could have tried harder ya know?
My body is very astute to the fact that I'm crazy a bit competitive and get bored easily so just to make it interesting it decided it would up the ante and add a few extras to the basic brutal flu;
a massive Fibromyalgia flare,
and a little bit of asthma thrown in, just for good measure.
Now trying to juggle the right meds really keeps my fogged up fish brain guessing,
"Did I take one of those?
Maybe I should take another.
I don't remember.
Yeah yeah, I took one. In fact I think I took two.
Ummm…then why are you still coughing like a lifetime smoker and sounding like Kathleen Turner with one lung removed? (Not the sexy Kathleen Turner obvs. The one that sounds like the 80 year old trucker from Californication)
Take another one!
Do I dare???
It might shut down my kidneys!
This goes on and on and on until I'm completely physically exhausted (about 3 seconds later) and I have to lay down and try to forget all about it, close my eyes and try to sleep a bit.
Then 20 seconds later I open them and think, "Crap…I feel horrible, I can't sleep! Did I take my meds?"
I'm letting you know I may be off my game a bit for a few more days. I had a couple of posts planned already but as far as checking all of your cool blogs I might be a bit absent.
Don't worry though.
Cause I still love you.
And I know that you would all notice right away if I hadn't been to visit your blog in a day or two and immediately
call the Ontario Police hot tips line,
call the Mounted Police horse tips line,
call Carrie Mathison on her private CIA line,
start a Facebook memorial page for me,
declare a worldwide state of emergency
call Olivia Pope.
(She knows how to dress and can fix anything…except her own life.)
I'm fully aware that I'm essential to the well being of your blogs and your state of mental health and without me and my witty comments life just doesn't seem
anything like the dreams you had last night after overdosing on extra spicey cheese covered nachos and what was left of that bottle of merlot,
what your guidance councellor told you it would be like,
your sixth birthday party
And if this seems
I'm blaming it on the
and half bottle of cabernet I *think* I've ingested today.
I would never drink wine with pills.
I save the Grey Goose for the pills.
This message will self destruct when I take down my blog.