Adventures in Effluvia!
I got back from a weekend with the kids and bonus grandkid on Sunday and wondered, given that I'd just spent two days with a toddler blowing snot bubbles, what lovely and photogenic contagions I'd taken home with me. Turns out it was the Mighty Morphin' Power Plague, devolving from vomiting and the trots to fever and soreness to some respiratory thing within 36 hours.
The stomach business was what I think of as the Active Misery Phase, which announced its pending arrival around 9 pm and went for broke around midnight. rain_herself was working her new overnight shift, so I was free to power-yark as my body commanded. They say times of adversity are when we truly learn, and I learned thatalthough peeing in the shower has a certain freedom to it, barfing in the shower does not so much. (I had salad for dinner.) Also, if you have facial hair, a mirror-check might be in order before reaching for the towel. Helpful hints for ya there, Bobo.
The fever and aching was your basic Passive Misery Phase, the one where you find that perfect fetal-position stable point and then don't leave it for 18 hours. Andrea brought me a ginger ale and crackers on the way home, petted my head after she awoke from her graveyard shift recovery, and fed me soup and low-impact TV for the rest of the day. A++++ would marry again.
The respiratory stuff isn't nearly as bad as it usually is, but it does features some nasty torso cramps that kick in whenever I cough. (Or laugh. Or....) Unfortunately with the fever gone this left me in the Not Enough Misery to Stay Home Phase, which left me at the office toddling off to the wellness room for a nap and generally feeling like reheated ass-biscuits all day. Boo.
It's three days since the plague kicked in, and I'm mostly on the mend, knock wood. cluegirl and I have a rehearsal weekend coming up, and I can still hit the relatively high notes, so all systems appear to be go. If you can spare a couple of digits, cross them for me, won't you?
The stomach business was what I think of as the Active Misery Phase, which announced its pending arrival around 9 pm and went for broke around midnight. rain_herself was working her new overnight shift, so I was free to power-yark as my body commanded. They say times of adversity are when we truly learn, and I learned thatalthough peeing in the shower has a certain freedom to it, barfing in the shower does not so much. (I had salad for dinner.) Also, if you have facial hair, a mirror-check might be in order before reaching for the towel. Helpful hints for ya there, Bobo.
The fever and aching was your basic Passive Misery Phase, the one where you find that perfect fetal-position stable point and then don't leave it for 18 hours. Andrea brought me a ginger ale and crackers on the way home, petted my head after she awoke from her graveyard shift recovery, and fed me soup and low-impact TV for the rest of the day. A++++ would marry again.
The respiratory stuff isn't nearly as bad as it usually is, but it does features some nasty torso cramps that kick in whenever I cough. (Or laugh. Or....) Unfortunately with the fever gone this left me in the Not Enough Misery to Stay Home Phase, which left me at the office toddling off to the wellness room for a nap and generally feeling like reheated ass-biscuits all day. Boo.
It's three days since the plague kicked in, and I'm mostly on the mend, knock wood. cluegirl and I have a rehearsal weekend coming up, and I can still hit the relatively high notes, so all systems appear to be go. If you can spare a couple of digits, cross them for me, won't you?