Look, we all had the flu. It's been a month filled with nasty family illness, and we've only just made it through the virus and its residual infections: eyes, ears, sinuses. (Okay, most of us have made it through - my poor wife still seems a bit under the weather despite everyone's best efforts.)
But we had the flu. The real flu. As in, we were actually diagnosed with influenza by an actual physician using an actual swab and flu test. No, I don't know what a flu test is, but it's something. It must be something, because they whisked away this little green-snot-covered swab and came back five minutes later to tell us the news.
That explained the high fevers. The endless, achy high fevers that drove us to the edge of our sanity. The fevers and chills that made us incapable of properly caring for our equally sick children.
It also explains the anger I feel at the millions of people who say that they have the flu when they have some little cold, or, even worse, a stomach bug. I hate you people. Not because you're sick. (I am sorry that you're sick! Really! Being sick sucks!) I hate you, though, because you have no idea. You have no idea what having the flu is like. You clearly don't, or wouldn't SAY it. You would say, "I have this nasty cold," or "I'm vomming up a lung."
Um. So, we had the flu. That's why I've not blogged in some time.
In other news, I was on the elevator this morning and saw a woman with a tiny backpack - a mini backpack that might otherwise be reserved for a toddler to wear. Written in bold white letters on this tiny black backpack were the words, "The other white meat." I found this odd - and didn't really get the joke. Then I looked more closely and saw that, in fact, sitting there on the bottom of the backpack was the actual pork logo. It wasn't a joke. Not at all. It was just a tiny pork backpack.
2 comments:
Maybe she was referring to herself as "the other white meat."
Just sayin'.
I'd love a tiny pork backpack.
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