The Easter Bunny Tried To Kill Me

Yeah so...remember when just days earlier when I was leaping and frolicking - joyful over spring and the prospect of "doing" Easter for the first time in many years?

Well - what the Easter Bunny dropped off at my door was not fluffy or chocolatey or colourful. It was the highly infectious and very unpleasant, Flu. And before you think I'm over-reacting that the Easter Bunny tried to kill me with it, consider this, and this. Also consider the fact that at one point, my body aching so bad for so long with no relief, I did briefly wish someone would just put me out of misery. 

Easter morning dawned promising enough. It was warmer than usual and I was still in a joyful-spring-is-here frame of mind. I exited the house with a warm wrap instead of my usual winter coat. (Oh yes - remember those danishes I got for Easter breakfast for me and B3? The moment I cut into them I knew he would hate them. Cream Cheese filling. So I made him his usual bacon and eggs. More danish's for me. Freudian slip? Hmmm...maybe.) I toddled off to church enjoying the incredible scenery  on my drive there. Blue sky, fluffy clouds, snow capped mountains, fields (actual lambs frolicking), then made my way back home a couple hours later to complete the big Easter dinner. As the afternoon wore on I was feeling more and more fatigued. I knew I was battling something but was determined to push through. I had all this food and guests coming after all. However, by the time we sat down at the table the chills made an appearance. I must point out that the chills are different than just being cold. I know this because I've been cold for the last 5 or 6 months of winter. There has not been a day where I have not grabbed a blanket or an extra wrap to try and warm myself up. Some anonymous donor even dropped off a pair of fleece gloves on my desk so my hands would be warm at work. I can't type with them - I tried - it was hilarious - but you would be surprised how often I DO wear them. Stylin' in the camo fleece. 

(Squirrel Moment:  Did you know autocorrect doesn't like the word "Stylin' and autocorrected to Stalin. I try not to be Stalin at work. At least, not often.)

Anyway - yes - I was talking about the chills. Much different. No finite amount of layers can get you warm when you have the chills. Nevertheless, I grabbed a woollen wrap and when we sat on the couch after supper and B3 put his arm around me then hugged me close into his side I let him. Cuz he's warm. And all the while, I smiled and did my best hostess with the mostest, thankful that B3 knows how to carry the conversation without any prompting from me. When our guest left, I turned to B3 and said - "I'm heading straight to bed - I don't even care about the kitchen." He did the dishes while I lay comatose, every single square inch of my body aching, unable to warm myself up no matter how many layers I piled on. I woke up at one point, the house quiet, and wanted in the worst way to take some Tylenol for this pain but that would mean I would have to crawl out of bed and walk the 20 steps to my bathroom to get the medication and water then travel the 20 steps back. I literally couldn't do it. B3 left the city the next day for work. Thank goodness because I turned haggy, haggier, haggiest over the course of those two days and did NOT want him coming by to check on me. I mean - good thing there wasn't a fire because I would have emerged from my condo looking like a wild-eyed crazy woman spouting fevered nonsense and the nice men in white coats would have spirited me away to those nice little padded rooms on the 4th floor "for observation". After two days of piling under blankets and taking Tylenol every 3 hours (yes - I know it says 4 hours on the bottle!) last night, I guess you might say, the fever broke. I woke up and was drenched in sweat (that's the moment haggier turned into haggiest.  When you are 'bedraggled' and you add 'drenched in sweat 'to 'bedraggled' - you get haggiest). The good news is, the chills and body aches were finally gone. So this morning I got up and had a shower, washed my hair and dried most of it. What remains from this little gift the E.B. dropped off is a sore throat that won't relent, and an alien in my chest. If that thing gives birth, this whole thing will get even uglier. My goal today is to eat half a turkey sandwich and a) have it go down my throat then b) stay down there and make nice. If that happens, I will consider it a good day. 

Anyway - frolicking has hit pause. My spring flowers can wait. It's been cloudy anyway. I'm watching superhero movies on Netflix (I'm a Marvel geek - what can I say. Mark Ruffalo is the better Hulk, not Edward Norton), listening to Classic Rock (Frank Zappa wrote weird songs - and that's something coming from me cuz I like Joe Walsh - but Zappa's "Don't Eat Yellow Snow"...yeah drugs were involved in that one for sure!), and watching the Blue Jays HAMMER the Chi Sox (All the wheels fell off of that team bus last night!). B3 is coming home today. He's bringing me Ginger Ale. He was going to stop at the farmers Market in Duncan and pick up veggies and I said "Ugh No! Food! Gross!" (Why does he like me again?) Just Ginger Ale please. 

And that Easter Bunny - well he better high tail it next year otherwise he will find himself picking buck shot out of that cute little cotton tail.  He knows I can do it too!

Time for a sandwich. Wish me luck.

From: Artemousprime WordPress