Tuesday, February 24, 2015


Oh man listen, boy, have I been sick. Like wishing for death sick.

It started on Valentine's Day with aches and chills and turned into the FLU FROM HELL AND DAMNATION. It's been two weeks and my voice still sounds like I've smoked a pack of Camels since I was seventeen.

And every night before bed this horrid dry cough starts that shakes my whole body but doesn't relieve itself from my throat until morning. The other night I accidentally OD'ed on Nyquil (if such a thing were possible) and the next day I was like fighting for my consciousness for a whole twenty-four hours.

At one point I stood in the shower and wondered if I wanted to live another minute.

That's a bad flu, right?

Last week I stayed home from church and washed every corner of my house, disinfected all the knobs and chairs, scrubbed all remotes and controllers, shampooed my children's hair and bodies, wiped every surface of my house with disinfectant and set up a schedule where my children were given doses of hand sanitizer on the hour so that the germs didn't immediately return. You may be thinking right now that all of that was a silly waste of my brittle energy, but it's all about CONTROL. I felt like I had CONTROL over the situation and that made me feel better in the long run.

And every day I ask myself, is this a bad strain of flu or is this what it feels like to get older? My children all had the same flu but they were down for like an hour and then continued to bounce on their beds and fight with each other like they were healthy. Meanwhile, Christopher and I started to rewrite our wills just in case.

(Christopher actually went to the ER and they wrote him a prescription for some cough medicine that made him feel juuuuuuust riiiiiiiight and it made me realize exactly what was in "grandma's cough syrup" if you know what I mean.)

Oh man right now I am just praying I wake up and not feel like a garbage truck ran me over and then turned around and picked me up and took me to the dump where I was rolled around in hot garbage until someone found me and shipped me back home in my bed wet and sweaty heaving to breathe.

Was that dramatic? TRY LIVING MY LIFE RIGHT NOW.