The night before in the wee hours of the morning while tapping away on my itty bitty little netbook on the networking site which is highly addicting (Facebook) one of my gaming companions instant messaged me to see how things were going.
We frequently will pass some time between pillaging and whacking other mafioso, collecting imaginary greenbacks (in my mind dreaming of fingering each of those lovely Federal Reserve Notes) and amassing our deadly armory.
Our conversations floating between our beloved spouses, local weather, work or play, musical interests and our great affection for animals.
The friend also happens to be a bit more mature than I am, and takes on the role of big brother at times and this night definitely was one of them - he'd decided to start in on me when I told him how I was feeling crummy.
Now C'mon! If y'all haven't figured it out by now, I'm going to tell you in black and white. I am pigheaded and will do and say whatever I please. There's no pussyfooting around with me. We have one life to live, I want to live it if I can.
There are days when even I know I can't live life to the max so I'll curl up in a fetal position with the sheets pulled up tight to my chin only a portion of my face peering out. The blinds swiveled shut, if there are drapes on the window they are pulled shut and if need be I'll even toss a blanket over the rod to bring an extra cover of darkness to cocoon me in obscurity.
These are the times when I've laden the bed between our pillows with a few bottled waters, a box of Kleenex and even some of my favorite snacks to reach for between naps. I will stay in bed as long as physically possible waiting until my bladder is nearly ready to burst like some forgotten water-bed bladder attached to the garden hose too long.
The Tuesday before while at work, a gal from the home office came down for one of the many meetings the husband has here in town, she was a little under the weather and later released information that her son was positive for the H1N1 flu (oh yes that would be Miss Piggy's affliction - the Swine flu).
The media is toting this as quite a deadly bastard of a flu, of course if you ask me ANY flu can be just as deadly however its the individuals response to it that matters the most. How we fight off germs, how we rest, what types of vitamins we get and such.
By Thursday morning the husband was feeling crappy, he started off that morning saying he had a sore throat. Now my darling husband is a bit of a whiner about sniffles but hey, so am I! The two of us need to have the world's smallest violin constantly playing for us.
He doesn't usually mention his throat though, so I figured that this was the real thing and he did look a bit more tired than routine.
Like a good drone he went to work anyhow, Thursdays are hard days
Friday night he was sweaty and came straight home and went to bed for 6.5 hours.
All the while this is going on I'd been going on as planned with the 'Cleanse'. Hard work by the time day 2.5 was upon me and I was reading some material about how this was actually a very poor idea. Now ya know, I'm sorta the type of person to just jump right in and do whatever I want - I didn't consult my doctor first. That would have been the best idea but fuck it. He'd have said I'm a crazy fool.
It wouldn't have been the first time for that either kind of comment either. (he's still telling me to ditch the cats)
After doing my reading I came to the conclusion that I'd better get some food in me before I did further damage to the very organ I was trying to cleanse (kidney) and woke up husband who was doing another late night nap session, stuffing him full with a tasty double cheeseburger late in the evening.
Sunday morning rolls around, mind you I've kept my distance from Mr Sick and guess what? I have a fricking sore throat! He's coughing and I feel like someone has hit me with a shovel upside my head. What a pounding headache, WTF did I do to deserve this? Been minding my own business, not causing any trouble - not sharing any spit with anyone and I'm a neurotic hand washer so there's no reason for this crap to find its way into my nose or mouth.
Getting back to my friend he says to me in quite the accusatory way, which I'm drawing this heavy drama and tone out of the text that I did it to myself from my fasting. The fasting lowered my immune system, so it's no wonder I got sick.
Now really, did the flu climb up my sore bung hole through my intestinal tract to finally settle itself in my chest and sinus' and torment me?
I'm on this health kick, every day I hoof my chunky ham hock legs around the neighborhood for 60 minutes streaming music through cheap ear phones that make my ears sweat, I refuse to put chemicals into my body until I feel I'm at death's door. For the time being it's only fluids, vitamins and my new favorite drink - Kombucha!
Tonight I think I'm going to get some Vicks Vapo-Rub cuz my nose and chest are like stuffed green peppers. I hate Vick's with a passion, just grosses me out to smear that greasy crap on my chest and then it gets slimy and tacky throughout the night. Starts to get your shirt mushy and stains it up and smudges your sheets when you lay in bed.
However, I feel terrible and when I try to take a deep breath one side of my nostrils flares the other does nothing at all. My nose is so stopped up on one side, the other is running a 10k marathon.
In the middle of the night when my sniffer starts dribbling I'll grab a square of tissue and wad it up and smash it into my nostril. I hate waking up with snot running down into my lips.
That will be as far as I'm going to give in on the chemicals - I absolutely must breathe, this flu shit really blows!