This week I've been in bed with the flu that seems to be sweeping the area. It's been so bad that I asked Cody to find other things to do because I didn't want him around the house with me.
I didn't want him to see me in that state?
Rather, I'm more like a sick dog when I don't feel good: I don't want to be seen, talked to, bothered, acknowledged, etc. I mostly want to hide under a tree in the woods and die.
Or, under a blanket on the couch.
In the three years we've known one another, neither have been in this state of sickness.
He nor I.
It was time.
Cody tried to both 1) respect my requests to leave and never come back (unless wielding a gun) and 2) be a caring husband.
I woke up Monday morning with he looking over me.
I wasn't startled; I could barely open my eyes.
"Linds, Linds are you alive?" he whispered, kneeing the edge of the mattress, obviously smart enough to not touch me. "I went to the Dollar General and bought some things to get you better."
I rolled over to see his arms full.
Two bottles of Pepto-Bismol,
a box of saltines,
a block of cheese,
one loaf of Wonderbread and
a 64-ounce orange Gatorade.
Poor guy. He'd been listening to me from outside the bathroom for 24 hours and no idea which end the problem was coming from.
I rolled over and tried not to throw up into my pillow just imagining all of that combined. The next thing I knew it was 11:00 pm and CS was climbing the stairs for bed. I had lost 36 hours of my life.
Yesterday, Cody put things in perspective as I was somewhat on the mend.
As I refilled my water jug Tuesday evening, from the kitchen window I watched Cody walk halfway to the barn - throw up twice in the driveway - then do the feeding. Watching with a dropped jaw, I didn't know if I should throw up to prove my allegiance to our team or give him a round of applause for his stamina.
It ain't pretty around the Sankey homestead right now, but at this rate we both should be well by Christmas. Or, at least not grocery shopping at the Dollar General. I wish I had something more - or even funny - to say about the situation but frankly I think I saw my sense of humor go out in the last trash bag.
Wash your hands, friends.