When you drag out of bed, make your way to the bathroom and can’t decide if you need to sit or kneel, your day is already not going the way you want it to go. However, if you had to get up at 3:15 and find the Tums fast, you needn’t be all that surprised.
The current condition falls on the heels of a recent bout with a common flu not more than 3 days ago but is not related. It’s the heartburn, the whole heartburn, nothing but the heartburn—over the edge.
I didn’t go to work today but went yesterday.
My manager and assistant manager said “Hey, Jane! Welcome back. How was your vacation?” Those are words much like Hi-how-are-you- fine. Anything beyond “fine” is extra. They got extra, albeit the short version.
The kids are great, a real stitch, we had a ball. The 110 pound dog looks great but got sick after eating granola bars and the foil wrappers, has a mass and an eye infection. The boys contracted the 24 hr stomach flu, and the weather was pretty good. They played wii. We dragged them away from wii and played Sorry. The neighbor’s 5 year old grandkid said his dog died and is with grandpa on the moon. And I cooked a lot. (I never cook). Then, despite all the Germ-X hand gel and my son spraying Lysol over ever surface he could find, we picked up the bug on Friday morning.
From my curled up position under an afghan and a comforter to my chin, I was pleasantly surprised to learn the boys could entertain themselves quite well for hours including getting snacks by themselves without any interference other than the occasional bark from Grumpy Gramps’ position in the arm chair. Saturday I warned my sister, who had offered her place as a stop on the way home, that we were getting over a mild, short itty, bitty flu. She said don’t stop. Honey drove 75mph through a blizzard, and when I asked him to maybe slow down, he looked at me as if to say “who are you and what have you done with my wife?” We still couldn’t eat more than two bites when we stopped in Champaign.
We headed east to Cincinnati while the storm continued southeast. I was privileged to drive with the traffic through the KY-TN mountains at 80mph, most of said traffic passing me, while one of us slept until an inflammation chest pain attack made me pull over. “Are you ok?” NO! I have to take a Pepcid, lay back and burp! Just drive. We beat the storm to the door by 2 hours.
The longer version requires fewer words. We played Sorry, we tickled, I helped the 6 year old break the eggs and mix the brownies, enjoyed some premature sunshine at the sandbox, watched trike races, read stories, and prayed at bedtime. And cooked.
We found out we’re not as young as we used to be but we’re not all that old either.