I thought I felt poorly last week. What I wouldn't give for those run down sniffles today. I finally got whatever The Spouse has had for nearly 2 weeks. When the night sweats became a regular thing, he saw Dr. Ed and got himself a prescription for Zithromax. I am beginning to wonder if The Dark Lord and I aren't headed down the same road. The poor boy sounds like he's going to cough up a lung at night. I'm not so much at the coughing stage--it's more skull-splitting headache/fever/body aches with some dizziness and nausea thrown in for fun.
In the past 48 hours I have done very little but sleep, read, and knit: the red scarf is nearly finished and I read the new 500 page Philippa Gregory novel in under 48 hours. Her historical novels about Tudor England are definitely one of my guilty pleasures, and having the latest show up on the library holds shelf Friday afternoon was extremely good fortune as The Bug began to have its way with me. Also I've had lots of fun browsing craft blogs and wishing I felt well enough to head downstairs and do some sewing.
If I ever had any doubts about my husband's love for me (I didn't, by the way) they would surely be erased by how well he's cared for me this weekend. He made the trip to Salvador Molly's to bring me some spicy macaroni pie which I adore. Currently he and The Princess are out buying supplies to make vegetarian gumbo which will undoubtedly restore me to full vigor. For two days he's done everything (dishes, cooking, laundry) and kept the kids relatively quiet. So even though I feel like warmed over garbage today, I do know how very lucky I am.