When my husband came down with a cold last week, I was aggravated. Not at him but at the universe at large. Every time he gets sick I catch it. It is inevitable and unavoidable. And this was the 4th time since fall we'd been sick (Sept./Oct., Nov., Dec. and now Feb.). I usually get one cold each winter, so this seems extreme.
My cold symptoms started showing themselves last Saturday. Typical runny nose and sinus congestion. On Monday morning I went to work and was feeling better, thinking it must've been a super mild cold. Then by mid-afternoon I started to feel weird. My back hurt, I had a headache, and then as I drove home the stomach pain started.
I spent that evening buried under a goose down comforter on the couch, unable to get warm and in too much pain to even watch TV. I still managed to whisper some responses to Jeopardy from inside my cocoon. Thankfully I was not scheduled to work on Tuesday because that's when the stomach bug first reared its ugly head.
Five days of pain, discomfort, and general misery later this bug shows no signs that it plans to leave me alone. Desperation is setting in. Is this the new normal? What if it never stops? Oh. My. God.
This morning I had to bail on something I was looking forward to all week. My husband bought a used snowmobile a few days ago and made plans for us to join some of his friends on an all-day ride up to Lake Ontario. But now my new snow pants sit by the door and my new helmet is still in the bag. I'm huddled under my blanket on the couch while my husband rides our new sled without me on what was supposed to be our first outing.
Needless to say, I feel sad and left out. I'm missing all the fun because I'm tethered to the toilet. So yeah, woe is me.