Editor’s Note: WordPress will not let me load an image of my grocery list right now. You should know that this week’s list was written on notepaper sent by the U.S. Holocaust Museum as part of a direct marketing appeal. I feel a little weird writing a shopping list on it, but I’m certain that they want me to use the paper, as well as my trip to Wegmans as a vessel to never forget the atrocities of the Holocaust. So, mission accomplished.
Anyhow, since I cannot upload my list, I’ve instead included an image of a dancing banana. Enjoy and you are, in fact, welcome.
And now, a non-grocery list:
Patients at Al Dente HQ, ranked in order of congeniality, pleasantness, helplessness and other criteria when sick:
- The Wife
- The Kid
- The dead squirrel in my side yard
- My car
- The Wife’s car
It should shock no one (who knows me) that I make for a lousy patient. I get flashes of food poisoning from watching commercials for The Olive Garden. A simple cold reduces me to a pile of whining plasma that cannot muster the strength to get his own box of tissues. The Wife? She’s a champ. She scoffs at sickness, overcame childbirth (by way of Caesarian section) to leap tall buildings in a single bound. Me? As I pointed out last week on Facebook to some friends, I’m really a poor excuse for a man.
I left work on Wednesday afternoon shivering. Now, polar vortex aside, it’s rare for me to be cold to this point. Turns out, my body was reacting to a raging fever. I fell asleep around 4:30 or so, was awoken twice by The Wife and The Kid, and decided that my 103-degree fever was a good reason to stay home from work on Thursday.
Now, I don’t remember the first time I got the flu (and neither does my father, font of information he is). But even in 2002, the last time I contracted it, there was no accurate test beyond a checklist of symptoms. On Thursday, my doctor’s office (specifically the nurse practitioner that I prefer to see) performed a 15-minute test that involved swabbing my parietal lobe via my nose and then, when it came back negative, she drew blood. I’m not going to lie…living in a society where we can test for the flu and vaccinate against it (as well as pneumonia, chicken pox, shingles and your daughter marrying someone with a bad haircut*) makes Miley Cyrus and Justin Bieber bearable. Ideally, we would have none of the above, but I’ll take what I can get.
But, the fever and aches are gone (or at the very least the latter are back to their normal, everyday levels). I’m blowing my nose constantly and I’m still pretty lethargic, but the former is the only real tell that I’m still infirmed.
At some point, I’m going to muster the energy to download the photos of last week’s dinners from my camera and try to remember what I made. That was weird too: Whatever viral infection hit me slowed me down both physically and mentally. It’s the primary reason I stayed off Twitter and Facebook for three days. I didn’t want to do anything stupid(er than normal).
In the meantime, I’m back. I have no idea what that means, but I’m here and I’m looking forward to sneezing on others today at Wegmans.
*: Walgreens does not offer this, but I’m told you can acquire the necessary means at your area’s gun shows. A .50-caliber Desert Eagle should do the trick.
UPDATE (January 12, 7:19 p.m.): I was finally able to upload the list. You can sleep easier tonight.