A bad thing happened on Tuesday evening in class. I came down with the flu. I though I had lived through it already, back in December, when I was in so much pain, even my toes hurt. Remember? Well, my sister got a really bad case, and her fever was near 103, and she got this weird fever rash on her back that looked like aliens had abducted her and poked her about 1,000 times with small needles, and she was nearly coughing up her own lungs, which led to throwing up.
So, I was not excited to come down with the same cough that she had. Thankfully, she'd visited our doctor that day and got us two perscriptions for TamiFlu, which probably saved me from getting the worst of it. Andrea felt so bad about getting me sick, and she insisted I take the medication. I am glad I did, because Wednesday was a bad day, but Thursday was better, and Friday was about the same, but my fever was about 100 (don't know exactly since I took Tylenol and ibuprofen alternately every few hours to help with the horrible achey body feeling) and I was coughing, but not as bad as she was. I also kept down everything I ate on Thursday, unlike Wednesday, where pretty much everything came back up. Gross, to be sure.
S took great care of both of us and managed not to get sick himself. He got us Gatorade and watched "The Prestige" with us. He also bought vitamins and Airborne and rubbed my achy muscles and was generally wonderfully sympathetic. I'm so grateful to have such a good caretaker.
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