Unicorns And Fairies

If you follow any of my comments on Facebook (and if you don't, I do not mean this to be accusatory, simply a statement), you may have noticed that I have had the flu for the past week. Because I have posted 897 times about the flu. Because I have been home for going on ... 4,678 hours now. Or close to it. I never claimed to be a math major. I never even took Tax Law in law school, which took some serious schedule finessing to get out of. And may or may not have involved a lap dance with one of the deans, but you did not hear that from me.

So. Back to the flu.

Which, as I type this, of course I had it. Because like most other people, when the seasons change, I get sick. Or when I drive through a yellow light and don't tap my brake to make it look like I will stop but then decide to take my chances and accelerate instead of actually stopping, I get sick. Or when I am standing within a two-mile radius of someone who has a nose itch and is considering sneezing but instead just wrinkles their upper lip and makes a weird O-Face, I get sick. [An important sidenote: Mom, I am not going to explain the meaning of "O-Face" to you, so don't even ask. Love, Your Daughter.]

I also made a crucial error last week that stupidly, brazenly tempted fate. I might as well have yelled Macbeth in a packed theatre on opening night. Per the CDC's urging, I dutifully made an appointment and paid fifty dollars for my flu shot. Fifty dollars that could have used to feed the homeless. Or knit scarves for the disenfranchised. Or buy ten pumpkin spice lattes. WITH WHIP! Two days before I got sick. I want a refund, people.

Apparently, I have the worst immune system in the entire world. I'm sorry, please excuse me for one moment ... so, my immune system just informed me that it will now be filing a suit for libel against me for $40 million dollars. Upon advisement of counsel, I officially retract that statement, perhaps worst in the entire world is a bit of an exaggeration. I will concede that it is not as bad as that boy from the 1970s who had to spend his entire life in a bubble. Though it is undoubtedly in poor taste to make that comparison because 1) he had to live in a bubble and 2) I think he passed away. And now I feel mean for even saying that and a little depressed for him ... moving on ...

Several people have inquired whether I had the lower-case flu or scary horror movie music and scenes of The Impending Apocalypse FLU? I am not sure if it was the "meh" flu (sooo 2008) or swine/H1N1/whatever the kids these days are calling it FLU.

When I came down with a fever of 102, a rib-breaking cough, and sundry general awfulness (on a Saturday, natch), I called my doctor to inquire, So, about this thing? I was a bit reluctant to make that call because I assumed she would want me to come in and stick things up my nose, or at least, take some blood. Lady LOVES her some blood, she cannot get enough of it, this one. I called last week to get a copy of one of my lab reports from three years ago and she greeted me with unbridled joy, "Oh good! We are going to need some more blood!" I like to think such preferential treatment is because I am one of her favorite patients. I am sure this has nothing to do with the fact that my co-pay amounts cover a large chuck of that shiny Mercedes SUV lease.

When I called last Saturday, she could not have more emphatic about the fact that I was not to come into her office, or she would have no choice but to fumigate the place and then light it on fire. And then sweep all the ashes up while wearing a biohazard suit and moon boots.

NO NO NO NO. You and your flu stay far away from me and my office here.

Really? I'd thought you'd want to see me? And you know, test me for stuff? Don't you test for flu?

Hello? Have you not been listening!? FLU. You. Have. The. Flu.

Um-kay ... ?

Stay home - for five to seven days - do not leave the house, you are contagious. I will call in an anitviral prescription. Go to bed. DO NOT BRING YOUR FLUNESS INTO MY OFFICE. Oh, and shop at Banana Republic and Pottery Barn on-line for symptom relief. As much as possible over the next week. I find that my patients recover faster that way.

My husband debated the fact whether she actually said that last part, but I told him you do not argue with someone that has a 117-degree fever. Did I just write 102-degree fever a minute ago? Yes, I did. Whatever. I was hella hot. Point conveyed.

A word about TheraFlu tea. Have you ever tried that stuff? Me neither. You might want to. For your next date night or something. I swear it has absinthe in it and the FDA does not yet know about it. I would drink a cup of its lemony hot waterness and then be all, HEY JEFF! LIKE OMG!!! DID YOU JUST SEE THAT SPARKLY UNICORN!?? IN THE KITCHEN! NEXT TO THE BREADMAKER!?? TO THE LEFT OF ALL THE FAIRIES!??

And he'd be all , Exactly how much tea HAVE you had today?

And then he'd hide the tea box. Behind the fairies.

I will miss that lovely tea. The rest, not so much.