Family Flu Follies

It’s been a rough couple of weeks in our house. Illness overtook the three of us and we don’t much care for it. I don’t like it at all, but can handle it easier if it comes to one person at a time. This time, it swooped down on all of us at the same time.

One Thursday evening, Dad mentioned he was having trouble breathing and suggested I take him to the emergency room. I wasn’t inclined to go to that extreme until I saw that he was coughing up blood. So, I got him dressed, put The Pie in her pajamas and loaded them both in the car. I dropped The Pie at a neighbor’s house and headed to the hospital. Medical staff ministered to Dad, took vitals and blood, asked questions and eventually administered a breathing treatment. After a couple of hours of waiting, I was advised that Dad had bronchitis and yet another urinary tract infection and I could take him home. They didn’t even give him a Tylenol to take down his fever until I asked for it. That was $19 well spent, I think. Mere moments after I got Dad home and settled – around 1:30 a.m., my phone rang.

My neighbor called to tell me that The Pie was vomiting all over her house, was running a fever and wanted to come home. So, I walked over and picked up The Pie, carrying her hot, sweaty, stinky body close to mine. I cleaned and dressed her, gave her some Motrin, and put her in her bed amid her numerous stuffed animals.  Then I fell into my own bed…at about 3:00 a.m.

Four hours later, I checked The Pie’s temperature and it was still up, so I called the school, checked on Dad and went back to bed. The weekend was pretty much a blur because I spent it cleaning up bodily messes of one kind or another. The Pie missed three more days of school with the flu and I began to feel more and more sluggish, my throat scratchy and my head aching.

I was slated to host a baby shower for my next-door neighbor and I wanted it to be perfect (it was). When I awoke that morning, I felt as though every fiber of my being was protesting. I could barely keep my eyes open and it was a major effort to move. But I had to push through it to keep my commitment, so I managed through the shower and when it was over, I crashed. Hard.

I sent The Pie back next door and slept through Saturday night and all day Sunday. My wonderful friend, Stephanie, who happens to hold a medical degree, called in some Tamiflu for me and I got some egg drop soup, of which I only ate about 4 bites. On the third day, I felt better, but I am still dealing with a scratchy throat and a cough. At least I don’t feel like I got run over by a train! Did I mention that during this whole time, I was still responsible for taking care of other kids and getting them back and forth to school? Yeah, that, too. I hope that this little brush with the flu is the only illness I have to deal with this winter.

But I worry that the way The Pie plays with her friends like a litter of puppies, it may just get passed back and forth until it mutates into a giant monster flu that takes over our house and eats all the jello cups and drinks all the orange juice and plays punk music too loud on the stereo. Uh oh, I think I have a fever…