And the Only Prescription…
…is plenty of rest, and gallons of fluids.
It hit our family, like millions of others. The dreaded flu 2018. A tail-kicker. Makes you want to, well, do nothing. No energy, no motivation, no “prescription”, at least for the first twenty four hours. Maybe some antibiotics, a flu shot, or just some stinkin’ sleep. You simply endured.
It dominated the American conversation. There was “Flu A’, “Flu B”, “Flu LMNOP”. I experienced the ultra-frightful “Flu Swab”, a tortuous procedure where a medical professional had the unenviable task of probing my frontal brain lobe with a swab on a foot-long stick up the nose. After I came to, I slurred, “Now, there’s a story I can tell the grandkids.”
Surprisingly, this flu swab test came back negative! “No flu for you!” she proclaimed. However, she consoled, I had all the symptoms of the flu. In fact I was a “Classic Flu Patient”. Well, thank you.
Funny the scrutiny flies from the woodwork once the word “flu” comes up. “Did you hear Ed’s sick?” “Sorry to hear” might come the response. But if “Ed has the FLUUUUUUU!!!!! AHHHHH!!!!” Wipe down everything and your sister.
Good reasons for concern, especially for our kids. This stuff is potent and nasty, like a bad rum cake. We do our best. We dress warmly, drink water, wash our hands. Sanitizer in every pocket. We tell people, “stay home until you’re well”. Nobody does. Nobody thinks it’ll happen to them.
Until it does.
After day one, you’re just glad to feel like a human again. Ready for the road to recovery! But it stalls. Symptoms remain. Fatigue lingers. So do the stupid TV commercials. Thank God for Netflix.
Endless hours become days. You feel like a zombie. (Although I felt like eating NOTHING, let alone people.) Look at the bed-side clock to see which 5:00 it is. Somewhere the culture marches on. Society gets along fine without you. You don’t care.
Finally about day five, “Maybe I’m getting close”. You actually get up and move around. Your appetite slowly returns. Maybe a shower? Wow. I remember this feeling! I’m a real person!
Even after returning to civilization remain nightmarish remnants. The smokers hack, though I haven’t had a Camel in decades. The sheer exhaustion of a man in his sixties… Oh. Wait a minute. I AM in my sixties.
Yet, lessons were learned from the Week of Affliction. Yes, even such maladies can bring an up-side. A positive spin. The glass is half full.
1) Never to take your health for granted. Don’t scoff at the germaphobes. Sure they’re quirky. But maybe they’re on to something. Wash your hands. Cough into your sleeve. Drink water until you puke. Take your vitamins. Listen to your wife.
2) Plenty of reflection. Sometimes it takes getting sick before you’ll unwind. Everything got canceled. No choice. So much time to think, I ran out of brain. It was a good reboot.
And on top of everything else, a sunny side.
I lost seven pounds.