The Unwanted Visitor

Posted on November 17, 2008 in Body Language

Things didn’t feel right after I took a late afternoon nap. I went to bed feeling a little tired, then woke up feeling whoozy and unrested. Conditions worsened as I processed some cell phone photos and uploaded them to Facebook. I just didn’t have the energy to finish the task.

“I’m feeling a little cold and achy,” I said to Lynn. “I’m going over to the jacuzzi.”

Even though the air was in the seventies, I shivered. The jacuzzi felt good on my skin, but I also felt like my brain had been wrapped in a gigantic cotton boll.

As the chills worsened, I realized what I was up against: influenza. Two weeks ago, I’d given in to my doctor’s recommendation that I have a flu shot ((For the record, I do not blame my flu shot. If anything, it may have shortened this episode. The mystery that lingers is where did I pick this up? Who gave it to me?)) . Tonight the unwanted visitor had arrived anyways. I assembled my arsenal of medications including tylenol, benadryl (to help me sleep), and compazine for the nausea that was beginning to inflate my gut. My regular nightly meds rounded off the package.

The night did not go well. My wife, who fears being in the presence of nausea, slept upstairs. The compazine worked for about four hours before I found myself in a state best left undescribed. I flashed hot and cold all night. I dreaded getting out of bed because I would chill at the slightest touch of the cool air. My legs fought my hips and I kept throwing blankets off and putting them back on again. In the morning, a light dew of sweat covered my body. I showered it off, took more tylenol and benadryl plus my morning meds. By afternoon, only a faint wetness exuded by my pores gave any evidence of the terrors of my feverish night.