I Guess That’s Why They Call It The Flu
*Updated to reflect the word I was actually going for here, which was “Medal” NOT “Metal”. Thanks, Manny!*
All of the signs were there, I guess, but as I am a complete idiot I failed to notice. Well, until 2 golfballs took up residance under my chin and I woke several nights in a row with my sheets soaked with sweat. The Daver then began complaining of similar symptoms when I realized, that along with a fancy watch, more bath product than I can even store (do I smell bad? Do I look like I need a shower? Wait, don’t answer that.), and a large assortment of toys, someone was kind enough to gift us Haemophilus influenzae. More commonly known as the flu.
I squinched my watery eyes up and began to examine the usual suspects (because I am so very mature, I always look to find someone else to blame. Makes me feel better), and could recall absolutely no one coughing and hacking into their ham. So I turned to the one person I ALWAYS like to blame: Nat. Nat brought us a little Christmas Flu this year.
Asshole.
I’m usually pretty on top of getting my flu vaccine, what with being a nurse and all, and I even go so far as to make my own appointments! I know, I deserve a medal or something for my incredible level of responsibility. Problem is, this year, between the complete lack of sleep and well, the subsequent sleep deprivation, it fell off my list of things to do, just like getting a haircut and shaving the cats.
Now the battle in The Sausage Factory is waging on, in full force. The Battle Of Who Is Sicker.
Dave hates colds, and if I should ever forget this for even a moment, he is quick to remind me of this, oh about every 2 and a half minutes. I’ll take a cold over the stomach flu any day, but this is the real flu, so all bets are off.
I’m imagining that the rest of the week will see battle lines drawn and sides taken, lightbulbs used to warm thermometers (See, MY fever is HIGHER! Dave, you’re not 109 degrees, or you’d be dead.), symptoms grossly exaggerated to illict sympathy from their troops (I’m so sick, I’M SHAKING, so I can’t be trusted to make dinner! I might UNDERCOOK THE CHICKEN and then we’d all get salmonella and DIE!), many hours of throwing ourselves dramatically onto neighboring couches, and likely culminating in one of us grabbing a kitchen knife and making superficial cuts on our body parts (SEE, I’M SO SICK THAT I’M BLEEDING! THE FLU IS MAKING ME BLEED!) nevermind the fact that this isn’t even a symptom of the flu, just histrionic personality disorder.
Once I made the connection between my symptoms and diagnosis (Dur!), I decided that a trip to Target was necessary to stock up on supplies. This found me all alone in the pharmacy department pouring and repouring over the shelves to look for anything marked “Will Kick The Flu’s Ass.” No such product was available to me, so I grabbed everything I could think of PLUS some gimmicky crap that I would never normally think of spending money on (snakeoil is, afterall, snakeoil). When I’m sick, I have no decision-making capabilities whatsoever. It’s a good damn thing no one tried to sell me crappy Tupperware or Pampered Chef products, because my bank account would be all hurty, BECAUSE I CANNOT SAY NO TO ANYTHING WHEN I’M SICK. Another odd side affect of being very sick is that I am unfailingly nice and sweet. When my immune system is being attacked, my personality becomes remarkably like a doormat, a snivelling and sappy doormat who cries at commercials and the Fear Segment of the news. It’s pathetic, even by my own standards.
So this is where you’ll find me today, sitting on the couch, weeping intermittantly about everything and nothing at all, and blowing my nose into these nifty antiviral tissues I found (see, I TOLD you I can’t resist a gimmick when I’m sick), while trying to suck down some Theraflu that Ashley recommended (it tastes just like ass. Rotten ass.). Any other good suggestions for me (keep in mind I cannot lounge about in bed as much as I’d like to. This is the hardest part about having kids for me: being unable to be remotely selfish even when very ill)?
OOOOHHH! I know what you can do to make me feel better WITHOUT exposing yourself to the Death Flu! You can tell me about new blogs to read! See, if I read you, you’re probably on my Virtual Pimps linkage. If I don’t, you’re probably not there. But, you see, I want you to be there! And I want to read you!
So dish, who is good to read?
I feel for you. Not so much for the sick part, that you can deal with easily, it’s the husband sick part. Been there done that more times than I can count. So, so sorry.
I used to have wonderful luck with Advil Cold and Sinus – but I think it was back when it had the stroke and heart attack inducing stuff in it. Or maybe it was in the pre-Meth insanity. Either way I don’t think it’s the same anymore.
I have had incredible luck with Zicam though (expensive, feels like snakeoil when you buy it, I didn’t have a choice since it’s about the only thing I could take while breastfeeding, but turned out it worked and I am now a firm believer in it). I’ve only used the swabbie things that you stick up your nose.
And why is it that when a man is sick he gets to lay in bed all day and mope, but a woman still has to get up and take care of business? That kills me. And if I’m remotely sick – all of the sudden he’s sick too. I think it’s his way of getting out of taking care of me, but I can’t prove it yet.
PS- I will be stealing “Fear Segment of the news” from you. That is SO what that is.
Becks, I hope you feel better soon! Yuck. The flu sucks!
My best advice to you is to keep the television OFF. When I am sick, I will buy any piece of crap that anyone tries to sell me. Our new rule is that if I feel like “shopping while sick” I am required to call the wife and ask if I’m allowed to buy the ginsu knives or not.
🙂
I hope that you are all feeling better soon. By the way Theraflu works wonders!
You’re nice when your sick? I’m already in mean withdrawals.
make yourself a hot toddy, stat. lemon, hot water, and brandy.
read cary tennis on salon.com. the greatest advice columnist going. http://dir.salon.com/topics/cary_tennis/?source=rss&aim=/topics/cary_tennis/
btw which CFC did you check? this one? http://www.thelaboroflove.com/chart/pred.html
Sorry dudem the flu is miserable (as is TheraFlu). Give me a holler when you’re feeling better. I am a giant ball of crazy right now and would love to see my Becky…
Sorry to hear you are sick. I know it sucks. If you just started feeling sick, I would suggest calling the M.D. They actually have meds they can give you for the flu early on (if only I had known this last month). Just a thought. Also, I heart guafenisin (don’t know if I spelled that right..it’s the main ingredient in mucinex), and humidifiers. Sending you lots of feel better wishes!
http://www.salamitsunami.com/
A friend of mine recommended this guy to me and I started at the beginning and kept reading. Hilarious.
As for being a sicky-pants….that sucks! Read, read, and read some more…although if you are like me, you won’t remember any of it through your cold medicine induced haze.
Me love you long time beeotch – we MUST catch up when you are feeling better.
Kristine, YOU ARE SO RIGHT ABOUT THE MAN LAYING AROUND, MAN IT’S ANNOYING AS HELL! (and yes, Daver, if you are reading this, it’s true).
Gail, that tickles me pink (pinkles?) that I’m not the only one who wants to buy ANYTHING when I’m sick. I thought this was just another oddity about Aunt (Grandpa?) Becky. Guess it’s a good thing we didn’t get married, eh?
Cricket, don’t worry. Me being ultra nice is like what other people act like on bad days. Such is life, such is Aunt Becky.
Thanks, Kristin for the suggestion. Lord knows I need some new reading material!
And GS, it still says Alex should be a girl based on the Chinese Zodiac.
Oh, and Ashley, feel free to call and obsess at me. I may be incomprehensible, but hey, I’m an open ear!
Never had the flu shot ’round here; had the flu the last two years in row – all of us. Vaccines for everyone this year! The MAN has two knots on his neck, too (and has been rather bitchy – and snotty – the past two days); surely it’s not, though, with the shot and all.
Theraflu (I think) or Vicks makes these shower fizzies that are wonderful – the steam releases all those vapor-y smells. Don’t step on it, though, if you try it! It will burn a hole in your foot – just what you need on top of the flu! Feel better!
becky,
hey there. don’t know if you remember me, but i’m the one you bought the crazy oak park condo from 🙂 I really enjoy reading your stuff. you’re hilarious and very talented. Mine’s a different format, but thought you might want to take a peak.
http://www.crimsonswirl.blogspot.com
Whitney
Sorry, you’re down and stuck in the cold!
Personally, I take M. out back and threaten to put him down like a horse with a broken leg! He perks right up! Your back and forth sounds a lot like our last half hour (“uh huh” “nuh uh” “you do too own a fanny pack and I’ve seen you wear it with black socks and sandals!”).
My recommendation Vicks rub and hot toddies. That way you don’t care that you stink!
Have you tried http://www.rockstarmommy.com ? She’s hilarious with an edge.
Becky, it’s a good thing we didn’t get married mostly because I don’t think you could have withstood my particular strain of the wedding flu. You never would have made it through that. 🙂
On the other hand, our wedding cakes looked remarkably similar…
In my next life, I’m marrying you.
Gail, don’t have any doubt, I will take you up on that 🙂
And I don’t think I would have been as annoyed had SOMEONE (ahem, DAVE) done something other than bark out orders about how the wedding SHOULD be without doing much of the work.
Does that make sense?
I would have told Dave to marry someone else if that’s the crap he pulled. You have opinions? Fine – implement them!
Like with my wedding – the wife wanted to go all old-fashioned and traditional and not have pre-printed RSVP cards because the etiquette books from 100 years ago say you shouldn’t. Fine, says I. But YOU are making a phone call to every last person who doesn’t write us a lovely handwritten note to say whether or not they’re coming to the wedding. And she did. And I laughed at my ex-boyfriend who went so far as to send an actual telegram to inform us that he would attend.
“I know, I deserve a metal or something …”
I’m just going to tell myself that you’re spellcheck gizmo took a dump as you typing this, because I KNOW you meant to type “medal”. Didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU??