Ask me how my vacation was and I’ll ask which one? The one from Costa Rica was great, fabulous but the other one where the influenza virus strain A struck me and sent me to hell and back wasn’t so good though the latter is the one I remained really truly unplugged as is recommended for vacations.
So the idiom ‘Sick as a dog’ is said to have originated in the 1700’s when people largely thought of dogs as sick unsavory creatures. That’s one theory anyways. There’s also other theories about how dogs live in the moment and hence have no concept of feeling better the next day when they get sick; and then there’s another about how dogs pretty much eat just about anything and then vomit just about anywhere and so on and so forth. Bottomline is that I felt like some combination of ‘sick as a dog’ and worse.
I think I lay in bed a total of 3 full days in the same position. I’m not quite sure how I made it there because I started falling sick on the plane ride from Costa Rica to Houston. We had driven in to San Jose a day prior so we didn’t have all the travel packed on to the same day. Still we had to drive to the airport, return the car, take the shuttle, go through security and find our gate. Modern conveniences still feel inconvenient. Things went downhill from that point on. I’m grateful for the plane attendant who politely confirmed he’d check for spare blankets and informed me that they were unfortunately out but he’d asked the cabin temperature to be raised and hope I feel more comfortable – bless his soul for eternity. I’ve got choice words for the other douchebag who curtly said I wasn’t business class but economy so I can’t have any blankets. For that guy I wish him many a chilly cold night with no blankets in sight ever. I got through customs, security, long walk to the gate and boarding and another plane ride and another long walk to baggage and a long car ride home before I found my bed. That’s how I got to my bed. It was a long journey.
I had several chills alternating between extreme sweats and frigid cold spells. My calves were especially tender perhaps due to the strenuous hikes from the past few days and every inch of my body ached with excruciating pain. I may have visited the restroom a few times to pee or puke bile and there wasn’t anything left to puke. I couldn’t browse on my phone, listen to music, watch tv or read or talk to anyone because I didn’t have the energy for it. I was writhing in pain with body aches and blowing my nose profusely wondering with each tissue if my nose would just fall off and if I could die swiftly or why I hadn’t invested in Kleenex. Every sold blow of the nose that yielded a good chunk of snot was worth it’s weight in gold. It was these small victories that kept me going. I felt weak, lonely, miserable and like death. I wanted to cry but it took too much effort. My husband was unfortunately not as sick as me so he drew the lucky straw to tend to the kids, one of which was sick with fever. I missed my mom and his mom both of who would’ve nursed us patiently and lovingly back to health. I opined over why there isn’t a nursing concierge service and that it should be called something like just-like-mom. The branding and marketing ideas were endless for that one.
I was just finishing setting up the final touches for my private pity party when the doorbell rang and rained on my parade. An order of food from my cousin who felt like helping us from afar was being delivered. We were not abandoned and forgotten. We even had texts and messages from friends showing their concern and asking how they could help. What can I say. People sure know how to ruin a good thing.
