I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I get sick at Christmas time. Between all the family get-togethers and all of the crowded places you end up in, the odds of getting sick are pretty high. I thought that since I work in a place where the words "clean" and "washroom" are never words spoken together that I'd have a pretty revved up immune system. But this year something else happened: my home elliptical machine broke (again....damn you fitness depot!!!) and I've had to use a local gym to get my workouts in. Public gyms are guaranteed to make me sick.
This year it happened on December 27th in the afternoon. One minute I feel fine, the next the flu-like symptoms kick in. The achy skin and joints. The headache. The sweats. I raced home just in time to go through about 5 hours of sickness best described as "violent" before the demon finally broke and abated. To the touch I was burning up. To me, it was positively glacial. My toes were turning blue I was so cold. I ended up dehydrated in that "maybe we ought to take him to the hospital" kind of way. I realized that this must be what it feels like to die of some rotten disease.
My wonderful wife took incredible care of me. It's one thing to say you love someone, it's another to care enough to have good bedside manner. To all of you married people out there....if you're not willing to take care of your spouse when they are sick then you're a selfish piece of crap and shouldn't be married. Straight up. My wife showed just how great she can be.
One final note: Gatorade is the saviour of mankind.
But that's just the way I see it.
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