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Saturday, January 13, 2018

accepting reality...

So the FLU has arrived at ELC’s country casa. My Sweet Hubby (aka MSH aka Pa-Pa) began to feel bad Wednesday afternoon. I got home from TLC’s around 5:30. He was in bed. Thought it might be a sinus infection or upper respiratory issue.

Thursday morning? I knew it was the flu. He didn’t want to accept the truth. I had to force him to go back to bed. He promised me he wasn’t feeling as bad as he’d ever felt. I haven’t had flu in years. Maybe 30? Or 35! But I vividly remember the two times in my 63 years that I had it. I knew. Immediately. Both times I had no doubts: I’d never been so sick. And both times I begged God to just go ahead and let me pass on. I meant it. I was ready to be out of the pain.

I have, though, nursed MSH and TLC through many cases of flu. Never have I contracted it. It is quite amazing to me. To all of us. I’m praying my record continues through this current ordeal.

I thought I should call our doctor and get Tamiflu yesterday. MSH begged me not to do it. I realized he was afraid they’d tell me he had to come in and he could not tolerate the idea of sitting in the doctor’s office for maybe two hours. (If he was lucky. Could be three.) A trip to town? With a wait for our doctor? Then another wait on a prescription to be filled? Could end up being four hours. I understood. The whole suggestion was overwhelming.

During the day he actually seemed to be rallying. I decided that the (virtually useless) flu vaccine he’d had in October might keep him from having a truly awful case this time. But early Friday morning—when I went to check on him (I’d been sleeping in TLC’s old room—as I wasn’t interested in taking a chance his germs would attack me when he coughed and whilst I slept inches away from him)—I could immediately see he was in distress. He confessed he'd had high fever all night. When I took his temp? 103.

I called our doctor’s office at 8:30. The receptionist said she’d ask our doctor about a Tamiflu script. I also said I’d like to know what I should look for as we went through the weekend—in terms of deciding if and/or when to take him to our ER. If he didn’t improve.

By 11:00, his fever had gone down to 100.6 and I was headed to town to pick up his script and one for me! I had no idea I could take Tamiflu as a “preventative” measure against the flu. My doctor offered it to me. I happily accepted! Who knew that little detail?

I also had to pick up a $45 “ear” thermometer after MSH complained about my “old school” thermometer dating back, more than likely, to the 90s. When I got home with our prescriptions and the new thermometer? It showed his temp to be exactly what my old one had been measuring. 100.6. Sheesh. Mine doesn’t require batteries.

In the past 75ish hours, I’ve made several cups of hot tea for him—with lemon and honey. Taken many bottles of water to his nightstand. Gatorade. Have fixed him soup and bowls of fruit. Toast. Taken care of Buddy Bear the Dog and Hunter the Cat. He’s been genuinely grateful and has told me many times what a fantastic “nurse” I am! I could actually never repay him for all of the “nursing” he’s done for me—and TLC—over the years. It’s not even possible.

Tonight he’s in still in pretty pitiful shape. Y’all know we always feel worse as the sun goes down. Dangitall. Why is that part of so many illnesses? Why is that necessary?

TLC and I will be praying non-stop that tomorrow he improves significantly. It’s sad to see our strong MSH/Pa-Pa be sick. Extremely sorrowful.

PLEASE DON’T GET THE FLU, Sillies Everywhere! Stay healthy. Rest. Drink lots of water. Eat right. Take your vitamins. Stay far away from people who are coughing and telling you they have a fever. Trust me. You’ll be glad you did. Here's a thought: STAY HOME. Sick people. Non-sick people. Stay home.

Bye for now…


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