While 'tis the season to be jolly, Mother Nature overturned my holiday plans by presenting me with a nasty abdominal virus this week.
And it came with a wallop.
I was awakened Friday at 4 a.m. by a dull headache and general feeling of malaise; by 7 a.m., I had full-blown symptoms of a stomach virus and anything that had been ingested into my body was ejected within hours.
And it hurt.
Remember when you were a kid and laid in bed thinking: "When is this misery going to be over” only to feel your symptoms reappear?
That's what it felt like this week and the timing was terrible. It definitely took the pleasure out of about four days.
For three days all I wanted to eat or drink was chicken soup and Sprite. And if either of these appeal to you, you might stock up on both in case this culprit finds you too.
Fortunately I had a sympathetic husband to help me through.
Prior to the bug’s appearance Tommy showed me even greater empathy. He helped me get the Christmas storage boxes out of the attic.
Every year I wait for Christmas elves to find their way to my house but his year I didn’t need them: Superman came first.
I have written that I am married to the most understanding, caring husband in the world.
Although my husband Tommy would do anything for me, physical labor and menial tasks are not his forté. We don’t do “honey-dos” at this house. Credit cards are generously supplied with no questions asked but unfortunately some chores can’t be contracted out and this is one of them.
I know that pulling things out of the attic is no fun; frankly, none of it is fun for me. It's a nuisance In general, but decorating for Christmas is a necessary nuisance because our grandchildren (one of whom has finally decided she likes Santa now) will be here.
When I was ready to begin last week, Tommy happened to be upstairs so I threw caution to the wind and asked him to bring down a box or two.
Within 10 minutes the heaviest boxes were down, and to my surprise, in half an hour he had assembled two whole trees.
He then tackled the issue of burned out lights. In fact, he found replacement strands in a box and filled up many unlit holes. What took him less than an hour would have taken me at least three or four. Wow.
When he first started working I considered turning on Christmas carols, but that growl was still on his face and I thought that might be pushing the envelope a bit. However within 30 minutes, he was whistling: resigned to his fate, no doubt.
Being 6'3" definitely has an advantage over being an even 5 feet, and I was so grateful for my tall husband. He relieved 90 percent of my burden of worrying about it and left me to finish at my leisure.
When I asked him if he minded me exposing his foibles he said: “The truth is an absolute defense.” I took that as a “no.”
They are far outweighed by his merits.
So now I look forward to the season relatively stress-free.
I won’t be decking the halls as much as in previous years. Garlands that used to decorate staircases, candles for the windows, etc. will remain up there. I plan to take time to enjoy good health, family, friends and good cheer.
And I have a feeling that no one will miss the unseen decorations in those boxes at all.
'Til next week.