A week ago today I had a massive headache; by the evening I was slightly nauseous and the kids! With their noise! JEEBUS. They actually felt bad for me and Ewan is going through this very literal stage in which he thinks that I mean exactly every word I say. I remarked that "my head is splitting open" and his eyes got really wide and as I lumbered up the stairs and folded some clothes he brought me tape. It was adorable.
By the time the kids went to bed the pain was too much and it had also spread; my entire body ached. I took a bath and while crossing the bedroom ... POOF! A few seconds of time completely gone and my perspective was off: things were much farther above me that they ought to be, including Chris's very concerned blinking face asking what had happened. I was sitting on the floor in my towel. I had apparently passed out, and I am not a fainter.
By the time I climbed into bed the chills were such that it was painful. I've only been this sick three times in my life: once after a food poisoning episode, once after I had a bit too much to drink the night before Thanksgiving, and this. It was different though, because I didn't feel particularly pukey. Just the fever, wow. 102 and climbing. Chris consulted some medical advice and before I knew it, he was forcing me into an ice bath. My fever had gotten so high that my body warmed the water and melted a big batch of ice cubes instantly. I was determined to tough it out and bring my fever down without having to drag the kids to the emergency room at midnight, though, so I endured it as Chris dumped more and more ice in the tub and poured pitchers of ice cold water all over me. He's the bestest.
After about an hour, it worked. My fever dropped to 100 degrees and my bones didn't feel so painful. I dressed and tried to get to sleep. The next morning my fever was gone but my body felt decimated. It was a feeling similar to walking into an MMA octagon and going five, five-minute rounds with Chuck Liddell. It took me two days to get any semblance of an appetite back and about a full week to feeling back on top of things.
Chris is convinced that it was swine flu, which totally grosses me out and angers me all at once, because here I was DOING MY PART, eating as much bacon as the budget could afford in an effort to trim the swine population, the illness of which was causing so much trouble.
There really is no other point to this except to say that I have been sick, I am better, and I hate pigs except in bacon and tenderloin form.