I am sick.

Nick was out of commission for two days this week, with complaints like a sore throat, a dry cough, and oodles of sinus drainage.  After his third (or was it fourth?) day of these complaints and the worst of it was over, I woke up with a sore throat.  That was yesterday.  After work, I was very tired so I took a nap, whimpering and whining.  Nick went to the store and got some orange juice for me, and some chicken noodle soup.  Some friends invited us over for wine and bread and olive oil,  so we visited them.  Nick and I were both past the safe driving amount, so we crashed on their living room floor with their cat.  We were all tired and done for the night by 11:30pm . . . we figured we’re all old.  I haven’t seen midnight in a long time.

Today, I got nauseated around noon, and had a dreadful neck/headache from sleeping on a pillow that was higher than I’ve been accustomed.  So, after eating something so my stomach wasn’t empty, I took a nap.  Then I woke up two hours later with a fever.  You know, my hands were warm but I was shaking.  I took a dose of tylenol to help the neck pain, but it took a solid half-hour to kick in and until it did I was feeling decidedly delirious.  And piggybacked on the delirium was another wave of nausea, the kind that isn’t just there to make you miserable.  That nausea had one job – to lead to vomiting.  I got to camp out on the floor of my bathroom for a while (I have no idea how much time passed) with my overheating ribs against the cool tub, attempting to read a book so I didn’t get bored as I waited for yakking.

I never did puke.  I can’t decide if I’m glad of that, or upset about it.  On the one hand, it’s very unpleasant to throw up.  On the other, I went through all the build-up, so it’s anti-climactic to not throw up at all.

Nick’s store is doing their annual inventory tonight.  His work schedule is 6pm-2am.  And I’m home, sometimes feverish and delirious, sometimes within an inch of vomiting, sometimes just fine.  Do you pity me yet?

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