Santa Brought Me the Flu

20 12 2010

The title might seem like a joke to you but I am dead serious about it…Santa brought me an early Christmas present and that present is death flu. I am calling this illness death flu because ebola and The Plague seemed slightly inaccurate in that I do not have blood seeping out of my orifices and I don’t have buboes. I DO have a deadly combination of a sinus infection, ear infection and flu which equals death flu.

Some people might surmise that this illness came from overextending myself through the weekend but I know that the illness is from my body being run down and vulnerable enough to finally succumb to an illness that I have been fighting for like five weeks. Yes, I said five weeks. I have been convincing myself to work through feeling like crap for over a month…and this has finally proven disastrous.

You see, I thought it would be as simple as working through the pain and then crashing on the weekends but eventually I crash hard core. The plan was to get super sick over Christmas weekend but I ended up pushing too hard and getting sick the weekend before Christmas…bad timing.

Now I am lying in bed wearing ratty old pajamas and surrounded by stuffed animals, pillows, blankets, crumpled Kleenexes, an economy sized Sprite Zero bottle, my phone, laptop, MP3 player, the Wii remote (for watching Christmas movies on Netflix), my dog and all her accessories, day and night medicines for cold, flu, sinus, chest and nose congestion the death flu. I am one hot mess.

I have not finished Christmas shopping.

I have not wrapped all the presents.

I missed work today.

I am missing half of one fingernail from what I can only surmise was a fall sometimes this weekend.

I finally bathed after three days of not showering after convincing myself that the death flu was reproducing on my unbathed body.

I have cramps.

Two of my toes on my right foot have gone permanently numb from the shoes I was wearing the other weekend.

I am covered in bruises from falling over in the shoes of doom that I was wearing this last weekend.

One.

Hot.

Mess.

I am going to nibble on some Scooby Doo mac n cheese that D made for me because he feels bad for me. He feels so bad for me that he is even refilling my tiny sparkle cup that holds like 1/2 c diet ginger ale at a time whenever I suck it dry. It’s a tiny cup that has clear sides that show the drinker that there is a snow penguin wearing a scarf inside with glitter and snowflakes falling around him whenever you shake the cup…which you shouldn’t do when it is filled with diet ginger ale because a) you will spill the ginger ale all over and cry about being sticky and b) you will end up making D refill the cup with more diet ginger ale in between mopping you and the bed and chihuahua up with a towel.

Please pray that Santa brings me the antidote for death flu soon.

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