Weekend

Down and out.

Pride cometh before the fall.  I have smugly been thinking that I have a really good immune system because I'm a teacher and I'm impervious to all the little germs lurking about.

January has taught me a different story.

I have had this undulating level of sickness.  Start to get better and then struck back again.  Over and over.

Friday I didn't really think too much about how I felt; I just got up and went to school.  If you stopped doing things because you didn't feel perfectly fine, I don't think you'd really do anything after the age of 40.  On the way to work, when I was sitting still, I thought, "Wow.  I really feel awful."

As the day progressed, I felt worse.  It seemed like more effort to get a sub than not, so I powered through, feeling worse and worse.  Once the kids left, I left early and went to the walk in clinic.  They gave me a Covid, flu and strep test.

The good news, I guess, is that I don't have Covid.  I tested positive for strep and influenza B.  She gave me another antibiotic and some tamiflu.  I said, "So can I go back to school Monday, since I'll be on an antibiotic?"

She looked askance.  "No.  You're contagious."  She told me to stay home at least until Tuesday.  

I told the doctor about my misguided thoughts on my own immunity.  I said, "I'm a teacher!  I thought I was stronger!"

She said, "It's not your fault.  This is really bad this year." (I never thought it was my fault, but I appreciated her validation.)

I felt super sad to miss the show that Geri gave us tickets to for Christmas.  

Adam said he would stay home with me and I said that was ridiculous and he should go.  They took Liliana with them and they had a good time.  I stayed home and watched Netflix and cross-stitched.  

Sunday, Adam was at church from 7:00-4:30.  I worked on my Sunday School lesson and read and did some Family History.  I stopped when I couldn't figure out if Edwin Bourne was actually born (pardon the pun) to a mother in her late 60s.  That is a puzzle to be unraveled when I have more energy.

It was a much quieter day than usual around here on a Sunday.  Emma stopped by for a few minutes to say hello on her way to a cousin FHE.  I didn't finish the Sunday NYTimes puzzle.  We watched All Creatures Great and Small and we both cried like we always do.

Today is another home day.  I hope I have the energy to do something productive.

Although cross-stitch is productive.  So is reading.