Down for the count

Internets. I have returned from Ireland, my favorite place, and have brought back plenty of woolen products, half of the Guinness storehouse, Paddy's Whiskey (that one's for you ChrisPiss), and best of all, the flu.

Note to self: You are not superhuman. Get the flu shot.

I've never gotten the flu shot because I never believed I needed it. Funny how you realize you need it after you get the flu. I very rarely get sick, but when I do get sick it knocks me out. I'm on day four of the flu and am finally able to sit-up, eat, and use my brain. Hooray for small victories.

Five years ago, I went for a lunchtime run with a friend and halfway through I had to stop because I had suddenly developed the chills and started coughing up phlegm, out of nowhere. Turns out it was a spontaneous case of pneumonia. That was the most miserable I have ever been in my entire life--this flu episode is a close second. I was out of work for ten days. TEN DAYS! At the time I was living in a 425 square foot studio apartment. TEN DAYS. I was a little stir crazy to say the least. I remember near the end of my sickness, I wanted to walk to Blockbuster to return some movies I rented and it took me 45 minutes to walk five blocks. Me. A healthy 27-year-old marathon runner was taking a breather after each block. I think I was even shuffling my feet as I labored down the street.

As a kid I got sick with the same intensity. Usually I'd end up with strep throat, but when most kids have strep throat, they get a sore throat. Not me. I'd end up violently throwing up for 16-18 hours. Anything that went in, would come right back out. I remember waking up one time after I had sleep walked into the bathroom and missed the toilet, sorry mom. And to this day, the thought of Pepto Bismol induces my gag reflex. Unable to stomach even water, my mom would corner me with a spoonful of the pink ooze hoping it would settle my stomach and work some magic. I would clench my teeth so tightly knowing that the only magic it was going to work was setting a record for time from stomach back to toilet--it was usually instantaneous.

My super intense sicknesses were a point of pride for me as a kid. A declaration of sorts: People, I have been to the edge and back averaging 1.4 trips to the bathroom per hour along the way.

So here I am, sick as a dog. But at least I'm on the mend. And with my mom and her Pepto Bismol thousands of miles away, Mr. McMichael has been an excellent stand-in. He's put up with my moaning and whining and my crazy anal-retention about cleaning bathtubs which apparently is heightened when my temperature soars. In thinking about what I could do to express my thanks and gratitude for the TLC, it turns out I've already given him a gift. Ah, yes, the flu. The gift that keeps on giving.