Sickness Sucks

Ok, well, I have been really sick this week. No, that does not really excuse the lack of blog updates. BUT, when I say I was sick this week, I mean SICK. I have not felt this badly in many a moon. It started Monday evening when I got tired really early, and carried into Tuesday when I spiked a fever and went home from work. I hate fevers. I got the kind where it feels like someone is kicking you in the back repeatedly, and your legs have lives of their own and will not sit still. Also, the alternate chills and sweating is not my favorite. Ug, the sweating. It's like I ran a marathon, complete with swamp ass. I have to change my clothes! I only have so many pairs of sweatpants and big tee shirts.

I thought I was better today. Yesterday I woke up with a fever (small comparative to other days, only 101!) that seemed to go away by noon. hooray! I was weak, I was tired, I looked terrible, but I was hopeful. I got up this morning, and still no temp. I drug my tired ass through the motions of getting ready, applying a lot of extra concealer under my eyes to avoid the comments of, "Wow, you don't look like you feel so good." Those are always encouraging, aren't they? Everything wore me out, but I chalked it up to the diet of tea buns eaten when taking 800 mg of ibuprofen. No gas in the tank, folks. I saw patients, thankful for my sedentary job, and then went home for lunch and ate some Cheerios and picked up a vitamin-packed juice (Fuze brand) at the convenience store on the way home. Refueling efforts.

Why the press to get better? Well, besides the obvious point of disliking feeling ill... I had plans this weekend! Oh, and not just any plans, but plans for a girls' weekend away. No kids, no spouses, just me and my girlfriends in DesMoines. We had scheduled spa mornings at Sahar's - a swanky spa in West DesMoines, where I was to enjoy a sweedish massage and a "hand facial" where they wrap you up to your arms in seaweed or mud or sea salt or something, and rub and clean all of your stress away. A spa morning, where you can pretend to be one of those ladies in the movies who is always going to the spa for, well, spa services. The delight did not end there. Heck, it didn't even start there! We were leaving this very evening, with dinner plans in downtown DesMoines where they serve food that is not just burgers and chicken. Then we were just going to hang out and have a no-plans evening, maybe heading to Barnes and Nobel. Mmmmm. Oh, and then after we got up and had our spa morning, we were going to SHOP! I was going to go to White House Black Market and buy something that made me feel appealing, attractive, and perhaps a bit sexy. I was on the prowl for new shoes and tall black boots. I had money saved, I had gift cards to burn... oooh, the pleasure!

But wait! There's more! AFTER the spa and the shopping, we were going to have MORE dinner at yet another restraunt that serves a wider variety than cheeseballs and chicken strips. We had plans to get our makeup applied by professionals who I am certain could make me look like a movie star. This, with my new outfit, would have me feel stunning and ready for the next part in our fun weekend... DANCING! Oh, my favorite part. I love to dance. love it love it love it. I often intend to drink too much when going out dancing, but it rarely happens because I do not spend enough time off the dance floor consuming alcohol. I would get a few woot-woos from random boys or men and that would make me smile while I dance with my girlfriends, laughing and throwing caution to the wind. Oh, what a grand vision. And we would wake up slowly on Sunday, giggling about the memories from the day before, eating bagels and drinking coffee and packing up our stuff strewn about the room, showing off our treasures from the shopping the day before... Then we'd shop a little more and head home. Tired but rejuvenated like any good vacation.

Notice that I have used past tense and wistful language. Because I am at home in bed, NOT going to DesMoines. Spa appointments canceled. No shopping, no dinners, no dancing. Sickness sucks. Fever is back, accompanied by other unpleasant gastrointestinal effects. TMI?

Now, I know that this is so minor in comparison to other troubles in the world. I'm not having to battle cancer. My children are healthy. I can afford to go on trip and still pay my mortgage. So, I know it is petty. But, allow me this one woe is me moment, and I promise I will move on quickly.