The Other F-Word

So that previous post - the one where I wrote some sort of horrible inspirational dribble about the flu's silver lining - it was total bullshit. Purge it from your consciousness. Because the flu totally bites - The End.

I think I might have believed that nonsense when I wrote it - but that was before we went to the pediatrician for the secondary infections and before he casually said, "I keep seeing people come in with one flu strain only to come back a week or so later with the second strain," and before I dismissively responded, "Wow, that would suck."

It was before I CAME DOWN WITH THE SECOND STRAIN.

I went from type B to type A, which is the nastier of the two strains (I know because I am unfortunately an expert now).

At the moment, poor Camille has it. I'm hoping it stops with her but it probably won't because The Universe is apparently pooping flu on us. When it's all over I fear we'll have no choice but to burn our house down with all of our belongings inside.

I have been well (and I use that term loosely) for about a week. And I still can't hear out of my right ear and I sound like I smoke 3 packs a day. It took Jules less time to recover from brain surgery last summer.

Seriously, people, I do not think I am going to be able to end this post with any type of inspirational/upbeat commentary, whatsoever. It can't be done under the circumstances. Although, thinking of last summer, and the brain surgery and all that - oh dear, here it comes - there are worse things than a house full of otherwise healthy people coming down with the flu. There is a mother somewhere who, at this very moment, would gratefully trade places with me.

I have been that mother.

So listen to me you Stupid Dumb Stupid Flu - you're not as badass as you think you are.

Oh dear God - I think I just issued it a challenge.

BRING IT.