Saturday, March 03, 2007
Saturday Night Fever
I came down with the creeping crud before we went to Guatemala. It hung around the week were there. And it rose to the top in Las Vegas. The seven different flights, five airports, and two hotels in less than two weeks didn't help matters.
Growing up a Christian Scientist has not made me good at accepting being sick. But I spent last night in the grips of a fever that had me seeing things and talking in tongues. So I had to finally admit I was sick. And it sucks.
I think the worst part of having a fever is what it does to your dreams. I was drenched in sweat, caught in an endless series of repetitive dreams. And I can't remember a single one.
I went into work yesterday and people reacted to me like I was a leper and avoided me like the plague. But Tess has been taking care of me, filling me with Veraflu, tea, orange juice, and chicken soup. I am lucky.
Anyway, I'm home. My fever has broken and I've stopped coughing up a lung every ten seconds. So I guess I'll live.
And maybe by tomorrow I will blog in a semi-normal fashion.
Whatever that is.