I've been out of commission the past few days — stomach virus.
Uh-oh. This is not fun. I'd rather have a sneezy, sore throaty head cold.
But in any case, a man with an illness cannot be a good thing for his spouse, right? Suddenly, an independent, thoughtful, self-confident male turns into a wimpering, whiney wuss, and usually, it's the partner who ends up paying for it — sometimes with her own stomach virus. Thank you.
At least, that's how it works in the stereotypical script.
I tried not to let that be us. While Kim offered to get some essentials at the store like ginger ale, saltines and Pepto Bismol, I tried not to make any demands of her. I don't remember asking her to go out of her way for anything. Meanwhile, if she was off running errands, I tried to continue my own chores at the house where I wouldn't contaminate anything — chores like vacuuming or dusting or changing the cat litter.
I assumed this would be a 24-hour virus, but apparently, my body was the perfect host for this particular bug, and it stayed with me a day or two longer than usual.
So I missed work on Friday, my third day off and 70 or so hours into this thing. I work part-time in a corporate mail room, which is kinda fun. But I didn't want to take any chances with sudden urges to run with the runs to the men's room. Depending where I am at the time, the distance from the mail room to the male room is a good 25-30 yards, complete with tight corners, narrow doorways and other people acting as unwitting obstacles. When you have a case of dire rear, the only thing that's a given is that you're asking for trouble.
So I laid out of work. I didn't even cover a basketball game Friday night. Even though I was feeling a little better by then, I just couldn't see myself sitting in the bleachers with 500 of my closest friends for two to three hours, then writing about it.
But all of that is behind me now. Really.
I'm feeling better. I drank plenty of fluids (lots of water) and enjoyed bowl after bowl of chicken noodle soup. My spirits are up. There's pep in my step.