I’m sick.
How sick?
Really sick.
If the molecules of air would stop attacking my skin, I could finally get around to reading this. (Photo from Wikipedia)
Really, really sick.
So sick that the only words I can summon to describe how sick I am are “really, really.”
I’m so sick that yesterday afternoon I had three cups of tea. That’s literal, not literary. I don’t particularly care for tea, except when I’m this sick. It just seems like some magic elixir I’m supposed to be drinking. Maybe it’ll hasten the onset of death.
So sick that I’m following through on my intention to have a Smash marathon to catch up on last season before the new season begins. My healthier self can never sit still long enough to finish a viewing marathon. A year and a half ago, while recovering from surgery, I got through the first two seasons of Ally McBeal. I haven’t seen another episode since.
I’m so sick that while I was sleeping through Episode 14 (the one where someone slips peanuts into Uma Thurman’s food) it started snowing here. Instead of my usual happy snow dance, all I can manage is detached ennui.
Oh. Snow. That’s nice.
So sick that my whole body aches. I have sick eyes. And sick hair. And my sick hair hurts.
It was yesterday morning when my hair started to hurt that I realized I might be too sick for work. I was one hour and fifteen minutes into my hour-and-thirty-minute commute.
Turning your car around and going home is apparently the white flag of surrender that this particular strain of the flu thrives on. Almost immediately, all systems started shutting down.
There’s no telling how many traffic lights I ran while pondering the origins of the phrase “sick as a dog.” I wonder if it started in Kentucky. I made a mental note to check my heavily flagged copy of Pretty Babies Grow Up Ugly to see if it’s mentioned there and maybe to find a cure for sick hair that hurts. I imagine it involves polecat grease or some sort of bean soup. Then I wondered where I might stop to pick up a polecat on my way home.
What I’m trying to say is I’m sick. Really, really sick.
In fact, I might be dying.
Portable polecat. (Photo from Wikipedia)
More specifically, I’ve spent the better part of the last 24 hours praying for the sweet relief of death.
I know I caught at least one traffic light because I remember seeing two priests in a Ford Fiesta in my rear view mirror — I’m sure they were real; I hadn’t had Nyquil yet — and wondering what the Church’s guidelines are for flagging down clergy to request last rites in a five-way intersection. There are certain disadvantages to being raised Protestant, not the least of which is having no understanding of priest etiquette. I regret that now.
Because I’m sick.
Really, really sick.
It’s times like these that lead us to re-evaluating our priorities. As appealing as the sweet relief of death might be, I realize I have things left to do before I can check out. So I’m working on revising, amending, and fast-tracking my bucket list. Here’s what I have so far.
Revised, Amended, and Fast-Tracked Bucket List (a work in progress):
1. Take a romantic walk at midnight in Paris. Make sure my loved ones know how much I care.
A. To my children: I love you both from the bottom of my heart. Mommies don’t have favorites. I love you equally for your unique talents and individual beauty. I am so proud to be your mom.
B. To my daughter: I know I said Mommies don’t have favorites, but truth be told you have always been my favorite. My first-born. Your smile that lights up a room. Your kind heart. Your thoughtfulness in taking care of others . . .like maybe picking up some chicken soup and a box of tissues for your mother who is sick. Really, really sick.
C. To my son: Pay no attention to what I said to your sister. She’s under a lot of pressure. She needs all the support we can give her right now. In truth, you have always been my favorite. I love the way you have grown into a responsible and serious young man but maintained your child-like view of the world. Also, I forgive you for the tattoos, neither of which mentions, “Mom.” But stop. Seriously.
D. Why are you both still reading this? The woman who gave birth to you is lying on a couch (or sofa or davenport, adjust to your own belief system), clinging to life while simultaneously praying for death. Would it kill you to pick up the phone?
2. Create the perfect workout playlist, custom-tailored to my cardio beats-per-minute Create a funeral playlist. To anyone reading this who might be involved in planning my final farewell, please, for the love of God do not include Bette Midler singing “The Rose.” Or “Wind Beneath My Wings.” Or anything. No Bette Midler. Also, no Celine Dion. And I hope it goes without saying: no bagpipes. I really have to get on this.
3. Take a pottery class and make at least one special piece. Microwave a bowl of soup. (Without passing out on the kitchen floor.)
4. Make an authentic Thai dinner that tastes as good as what I can pick up in take-out. Review list of people who annoy me to see who has peanut allergies. Act accordingly.
5. Exchange meaningful glances with Keanu Reeves across a crowded room. Watch every Keanu Reeves movie available on Netflix. Even The Lake House.
For now I’m off to continue working on the revision and/or to sleep. Just in case this is the last you hear from me, I loved you all equally. Be excellent to each other.
(And, seriously, no Bette Midler.)
Post-almost mortem addendum:
FluView, via US Centers for Disease Control. Nevada, Montana, Maine and Kentucky appear to be the healthiest places in America. Must be the polecats.
This map tracking influenza activity from the US Centers for Disease Control suggests Kentucky’s onto something with its home remedies.
Not The Lake House! Okay, I didn’t actually hate that movie. It was kinda sort fun. Sorry to hear you’re sick. I remember being that sick once. Food poisoning it was. I was throwing up blood for over an hour before I realized I was actually in trouble. The litmus test was the question, “if I had a gun right now, would I abort the mission?” The answer was yes, and that’s when I knew I had a problem. Fortunately, I didn’t have a gun. I managed to crawl outside and get someone to drive me to the hospital where I was put on IV for three days. Yeah, bad mayo I think it was, from a buffet line.
Hope you’re up and running again soon. And don’t go to work. You’re probably a walking vector of disease and pestilence.
This is the most effective argument for gun control I’ve seen. I’m glad you survived. That sounds awful.
I’m sure I will, too. I had a flu shot and I’m given to understand that means my symptoms are less severe than those who didn’t get one. I wouldn’t want to be them.
And here I come, wanting to say “Aaawww ‘The Lake House’”.
Can’t help it. It is soppy, it is predictable – sort of and I cry every time at the end. Now matter how often I see it. It’s ridiculous.
I am sorry to hear that you are battling so badly. My mum’s remedy for this was, and still is mine today: a hot bath for 15 min, drink quickly (to avoid cooling off again) something hot, wrap up like “mummy” with as many blankets as possible and sweat for an hour. Preferably while watching something on TV – makes the sweating bearable. And if you have Keanu to drool over…. then time should pass like a breeze.
That polecat looks like a baby skunk to me…. do the resemble that much?
I’m paraphrasing what I learned about American polecats from reading Pretty Babies Grow Up Ugly. Please remember that my brain isn’t quite right, either: there is a European polecat, and when early Europeans settled into what is now the southern United States, they took to using “polecat” when referring to skunks, a tradition that continues today. Or something.
I’m off to try your mum’s remedy. I like that “drinking something hot” is non-specific. I’ve been trying hot cocoa, but the box of tea is giving me a condescending look of disapproval.
Your spam filter doesn’t like me *pouting annoyed*
I shall look into that tout de suite!
Oh my…I don’t want to be an alarmist, but it sounds like you may be sick!
I had this around Christmas and prayed for death. The only difference is the little men with hammers inside my eyeballs wouldn’t let me string 2 words together, let alone a post as hysterical as this. Apparently you do your best work on codeine.
Hope you’re feeling better soon.
Oh, dear. That eyeball thing sounds nasty. Funny, but nasty. Glad you’re better!
I was that sick just a few weeks ago. Really, really sick. The thought of watching a Keanu Reeves movie almost takes me back to being really, really sick. I liked him up until I saw him flounder in Dracula. Maybe it was the movie, or maybe it was his poor attempt at a British accent. Whatever the reason – I cannot watch him again without feeling sick. Really, really sick. Though, that’s not entirely true. I will always have a warm spot for Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.
Continue with the tea and rest. I hope you are through the worst of it by now.
I didn’t know he was in Dracula. I’ll have to check that out. Maybe you could just turn down the volume and watch pretending you’re exchanging meaningful glances across a crowded room.
The cinematography is gorgeous. Gorgeous. But the movie is awful. Watch it only under the influence of Nyquil.
Perfect!
Sorry you aren’t feeling well. I would have believed that you are “really really” sick but when I saw that you didn’t want bagpipes at your funeral (I can understand Bette and Celine) I knew you were kidding. Anyways, get well soon!
So, wait. You believed the part about the polecat grease?
I’m not important enough for bagpipes, so I guess it’s neither here nor there. A nice classical guitar will do.
I promise you this, though: if this all goes down and you are involved in arranging bagpipes for my final farewell, I will haunt you. Every night. Just as you’re slipping off to dreamland, the ghost of a dead quasi-hippie with sick hair will appear, playing Amazing Grace on bagpipes. Don’t make me do it, He-Who! Don’t make me!
Mercy, you ARE sick. As in Really, Really Sick. I’m sorry. I guess it goes without saying that you probably didn’t take a flu shot. Or did you?? Lots of people are getting that stuff who did. Take a flu shot, I mean. It’s NO FUN being that sick. Taking a day off from work should be fun. Try Aquamarine for throat troubles, Amethyst for headaches, and Quartz for respiratory problems (http://crystal-cure.com/gem-healing.html). I don’t guarantee they’ll work, but they can’t hurt! And feel better soon, ‘K???
I’m fascinated to know that after all this time it turns out you’re really a hippie!
My employer gives free flu shots and I am always first in line. I’m told the symptoms would have been much worse had I not had one. I’m lucky that I’m well enough to laugh about it.
Thanks for the crystal info. That’s pretty groovy.
Have you ever been so sick your teeth hurt? Now THAT is really, really sick. Hair that hurts is merely really sick.
Feel better!
Thanks! I think I remember feeling sick teeth before but not in a long time. I’m a believer in flu shots and haven’t felt this bad since before I started getting them regularly. But sick teeth, yeah, that is bad. Stay well!
Sorry you’re sick, unless this is really a scheme to get a three-day weekend, in which case, well played, Hipster, well played. (You can’t hear it, but I’m slow clapping.)
With some scheduled time off and the MLK/Inauguration Day holiday, it’s working out to be a 10-day weekend. I won’t be going back with a mysterious tan, though.
Unless that’s a side effect of polecat grease.
i had a flu shot, and also the flu so far this winter…I was afraid I was getting sick, then I was afraid I was going to die, and then I was afraid that I WOULDN’T die. I didn’t, of course, but it was touch and go there for a while. But it was over in a few days rather than the requisite 2 weeks – and I didn’t end up with bronchitis or pneumonia as has happened in the past. But those few days were rough.
I wrote some poems, I think, last year under the influence of Nyquil – which gives me batcrap crazy dreams.
THis was incredibly funny – hope you feel better soon.
Nyquil does that to me, too. You should post those poems!
I am already feeling better after two days of laying low and I’m pretty sure that’s thanks to the shot. I experienced those exact stages of fear. Hope you continue to stay clear of anything more serious.
Here is one I posted…http://k8edid.wordpress.com/2012/02/
Sorry – that is my Feb archive page but there are several fever induced posts there…I was really, really, really sick that time – even my eyelashes hurt.
I read through them and wanted to comment on everything, but I didn’t want to appear stalkerish, so let me just say these two things here:
1. Anyone who hasn’t read them should. I may have read them before and commented because there was this whole thing with Abraham Lincoln’s spinning head a few years ago . . .it’s a long story.
2. If, in some sci-fi alternate reality, I were sentenced to a week with the flu, I would totally want to do Nyquil shots with you.
I have always wondered why Nyquil shots haven’t caught on with the general public…
Missed the flu so far and I did not get a flu shot because of other pressing issues. I am not bragging just stating fact. And if it is a nasty as you say, and I have no doubt it is, I will not miss missing it either. If I do though I will tell you it will not be as bad for me: No hair so it cannot get sick.
) Bourbon = All the sleep needed with no jacked up dreams.
As far as what we do here is the Heartland of Kentucky is to substitute bourbon for Nyquil (because we know polecats ain’t got not grease
Hope you get better soon because as I mentioned before I believe it is a bad as you say.
I seem to recall a remedy or two involving bourbon from the Pretty Babies . . . book and I think your fine commonwealth may be onto something with that: I just updated the post with a map of flu activity provided by the US Centers for Disease Control. It strikes me that Kentucky is surrounded by states with a much higher incidence of flu.
I know you’ve had a difficult fall and winter. You deserve a pass on the flu. Hope all is well.
ACTUALLY…what for you was tea…for me was Pepto-Bismol! Buy the time I took the stuff, the only conceivable solution was to upchuck. Which it did help with! Jonathan Caswell, from bythemightymumford.wordpress.com—Come Visit!!??
Pepto-Bismol is such a pretty color for such a yucky product. Thankfully, no stomach issues here. I’ll be by to visit just as soon as I find my hand sanitizer.
Thanks for coming by here — and I hope you’re feeling better.
I hope you feel better soon — but if not, what are your thoughts on a Gangnam Style funeral? We’d change the lyrics to suit the solemnity of the occasion, of course (“Oppan Gangnam Style” would become “open casket style”, and so on).
On second thought, maybe you should really just get well soon.
I’m not sure what it says about me that — without being under the influence of Nyquil — I’m intrigued by this idea. Kind of a New Orleans-style/Korean fusion funeral, but swear to me, Laura: no Bette Midler!!
So sorry to hear this, Hippie! I got a flu shot this year after being shamed into it by my physician brother. I caught a cold right after that. Of course, that is no where near as awful as the flu. When your hair hurts, that’s big. You are smart to stay home and rest. The last time I had the flu was in 1981 and I didn’t know I had it. I confused it with having a bad period. I started a mini epidemic in Minnesota that year.
Ah, yes. I remember the Bad Period Mini Epidemic of Minnesota. That made national headlines.
You are so funny!!
One of the few advantages of always dragging in late is that I see you’re feeling better. That’s ever so much better than finding a note from someone saying, “We’re hoping for the best with her”.
I remember the flu. What I don’t remember is the year, but I am very clear on that “just let me die” feeling. Orange juice is my thing, and occasionally 7-Up. Strange how Sprite or other such won’t do it. It has to be 7-Up, and I always have a couple of bottles in the back of the cupboard, just in case.
I hope you’re feeling even mo’bettah now – hurting hair is no fun!
I’m not sure why, but I’m (sincerely) fascinated by this 7-Up / not Sprite thing. Hair’s feeling much better now, thanks!
Yep, I had that. It knocked me on my a$$ for a good week. And coincidentally (or not), I spent some of that time watching Keanu Reeves in Point Break. We may be onto something as to flu cure remedies, yes?
Ginger Ale is my liquid of choice. But only when I have the flu. All other times, I am anti-soda of any kind. But I probably drank 4 liters of the stuff while I was suffering from the death flu. My toenails even hurt!
Glad you are starting to come out of the sick fog. And this post is indeed hysterical. Really, really hysterical. Bravo for funny AND coherent in the throes of the plague. Feel better!!
Thank you!
Keanu Reeves, polecat grease, and bourbon/gingerale. Let’s write a Maryland sequel to Todd’s dad’s book!
Sounds good. I even have the title . . . Whoooooaaaaa, Maryland.
Excellent! Our book will be most triumphant!
No Celine or bagpipes – Word. At least you haven’t lost your mind. Feel better soon.
I knew I could count on you, Betty.:-)
Oh my, you do sound like you might be coming down with something!
I’m actually sitting here feeling guilty about how much you made me laugh about you being sick. As long as you have that sense of humour (even while praying for death) everything will work out well. Other than that I suggest a hot toddy, which is basically hot alcohol. It will not you out and make you forget you are sick.
I was feeling better yesterday and my flu symptoms had been replaced by cabin fever symptoms, which are equally bad, so I went out to be with real people and had a couple of Irish coffees. There are few things more enjoyable in this life than being back among nice people, good music, and a couple of hot Irish coffees on a frigid January night.
Irish Coffees – the best!
Notice Texas? Yeah, that is me all my fault. I am sick also.
Feel better soon.
Plenty of rest, chicken soup, and polecat grease. It worked for me. Except the polecat grease. I think I got a lame batch of that stuff. Hope you’re on the mend soon.