It was a pain in the ass last weekend when my wife was down with the stomach funk. We had Van Halen tickets and I was sure she was going to want to skip. But she rallied and we made the show. Van Halen proved to be what they have been in the past, loud, playful and now, nostalgic.
She got the stuff on Thursday, coming home and hitting the bed early. This obviously "cramped" my and my daughters style, no dinner, none of the other stuff that supports the family unit. The animals were in protest too. I tried to be empathetic. She is never ill and she was obviously not well. She had a fever too. So I thought she might have the flu.
Let me tell you something folks, when your spouse comes home with that stomach stuff, you might as well jump in the toilet and swim laps right then and there, because it is only a matter of time before you find yourself in the same spot.
I had gone to Indy to host a meeting of Pfoodman's Silverset division. A group of our Senior Living Executives getting together to share ideas, make acquaintances etc. We took dinner at one of the local chain restaurants, one of the peanut-on-the-floor places, Long Horn, or Roadhouse, something like that. I am usually not too impressed with these types of joints. Ribs and steaks. Too many of them. Any way. I was having a hard time getting my food down, didn't feel just right. We had a little happy hour, nothing too over the top. Bill brought his guitar for later, as did I. We thought we would jam a little bit at the hotel. Something we do from time to time, when we get the group together. I couldn't hardly eat my dinner and didn't play worth a dang. I should have known what was happening.
The next day it was a little bit more of the same. Nothing tasted good, even lunch. Chef Anton had a marvelous lunch for the group. Tenderloin atop a fresh potato pancake, roasted vegetables and a reduction of something or other, a marvelous dessert. An unuasual feeling came over me shortly after the lunch break.
It was the last bit of food that I have eaten since and it is two days later. I was stuck in the hotel, missing dinner that night, sick as a dog. I had contracted what my wife had gotten earlier in the week. Only worse? Holding a meeting, hosting a bunch of people from out of town, having meetings with others, and not being able to attend? I was very embarrassed to say the least. Worse than that, we had to get back to St. Louis as soon as possible the next day. I had Russ, Bill and Joyce with me. At one point the windows were steamed up in the car on the way back, an incubated test tube specimen for all to enjoy. We passed around a bottle of sanitizer to take the edge off. I hope they don't get it. I will say that when I stepped on the scale, I was a good 5 pounds less this morning. Staying hydrated is key with this sort of thing. If you get what I am sayin.
I feel a little bit better this morning, the fever comes and goes and I have stuff to do at work. When I get ill and especially at my age, I feel so old. Feels like an indication of what life might be like in later years, scary and an eye opener. I hope to get well and embark on an even healthier lifestyle. I suck at being sick. Who has time for it?