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Dear Diary – Eldest Son ubered beverages and 6 doughnuts the first morning. Three of them were chocolate.

Someone ate all the chocolate ones.

I’m sad.

Dear Diary – I’ve reached a new low. I contemplated the usefulness of adult diapers. If I had some, I wouldn’t necessarily have to get up to pee. I know it’s gross; stop judging me.

I know if I don’t go, I won’t go back to sleep. So I lie there a long time psyching myself up for the trip.

First, it’s cold outside the blankets, even when I’m shivering under them.

Second, I’m pretty sure the floor leans to the right and I have to prop myself up on the wall.

Third, my head starts to feel as light as a feather and threatens to carry my feet away with it. Until I take a step and my sore joints bring me back to earth.

The trip is long and really feels hardly worth the effort, having sweat all the liquid out before I even get there.

Dear Diary – When Hubby quarantined in his room, I fed him tuna sandwiches on toasted bagels, and hot pork roast dinners. I realized after the first morning in my room that I might starve to death before the fever killed me. He doesn’t eat breakfast, so he never thought to offer me any. I could have asked him, but I’m not good at asking for help. Fortunately, I had had the foresight to grab a banana and a box of cheese crackers before I collapsed in bed the previous night. How bad could this get?

Dear Diary – Even though I am immunocompromised, I’m not compromised enough to qualify for the antiviral medication. Of course, once I heard the potential side effects that would make me feel much worse, I realized I dodged a bullet.

Dear Diary – Hubby reheated last of my homemade soup, the one I made as the angel of darkness spread her cloak over me Wednesday evening. I almost ended up peeling carrots and potatoes sitting on the kitchen floor.

He also made me sweet potato fries, and I learned that he doesn’t like sweet potato fries.

Dear Diary – On Day 3, I started to celebrate feeling cold and not because I had chills from a fever.

Then the tylenol wore off.

Dear Diary – I rationed my cheese crackers. I made that box last 6 days!!

I want a Big Mac!

Dear Diary – It’s like having a small child again. Every time I try to nap, someone interrupts.

Dear Diary – I forgot I ordered tea from David’s Tea on Thanksgiving Monday! The package arrived today. Too bad I’m too sick to care.

Dear Diary – On Day 3, Hubby ran a bath for me. I don’t usually take baths because of a bad experience when Youngest Son was small, but I had the energy level of sloth (and I probably smelled like one too).

By this point, I had sweat through nearly every nightgown I owned, at least once. Particularly at night. It was so bad, I had to sleep on the wrong side of the bed to get away from the puddle that had soaked into my mattress topper. On average, 47-60% of the human body is water and I had no idea from where it could possibly all be coming!!

In addition to sweating from the high fever, I spent the night playing the game “on again/off again”. You know the one where you’re too hot, so you toss off the blanket, and then you’re freezing, so you pile it on again…only to toss it 1 minute and 30 seconds later.

I had sweat and shivered so much for days, I was certain I must be a size 0 by now. Imagine my disappointment!

The bath was short, but oh so good! He even put bath salts in it. I have no freaking clue where he found bath salts because I haven’t taken a bath in over a decade, but God bless him!

After my bath, I put on a sexy, silky nightgown. Not to “reward” hubby but because I thought it might feel good. And I discovered something. It was the perfect weight. No sleeves and backless meant no soggy elbows or damp collar in the night. If I got to hot, I just had to stick my leg out of that thigh-high slit and I was good. Chilly, just wrap my feet in the silky folds.

Sure, I’ll never wear it again without remembering the Great Swelter of October 2022, , it helped solve my perspiring predicament. Even though I sleep alone in a queen-sized bed, I don’t like sleeping on the other side. It was uncomfortable spooning the laptop, DVD player, half-eaten bag of chips, phone, thermometer, box of kleenex and bottle of tylenol!

Dear Diary – There’s nothing good on Netflix.

Dear Diary – On Day 5, I ordered groceries with Instacart, to be delivered later in the day. I will never use them again!

Delivery was scheduled between 4:30 and 5. At 5, I received a text saying my shopper was starting…with delivery by 6:10. I received a text soon after that he had checked out.

At 6:43, I texted my shopper to find out what was happening. He informed me that he was shopping for 3 different customers at 2 different stores, and had to wait 20 minutes for my bbq chicken. The new estimate for delivery was 7:40.

I contacted customer service. They were no help!

My groceries finally arrived almost 3 hours after he started shopping. The frozen nuggets were not frozen, the meat was not cold, and the chicken was not hot.

The next day I discovered I was charged $4 for broccoli…I ordered broccoli. I didn’t get broccoli!

Following my review, I will be reimbursed for the missing broccoli. I’m just praying we don’t get food poisoning.

Dear Diary – There are forums on Etsy, so my task today was to post asking for feedback on my shop, because honestly, I don’t know what to do! Others have done the same with very insightful feedback from other shop owners.

One person replied and nothing she said was remotely helpful.

I think this is God’s way of saying, “stop banging on that door”.

I don’t mind, except that I have really been praying He’d open another first.

Dear Diary – It’s Day 8 and I still feel like crap! So does Hubby, who started 5 days before me! My head is still full of thick goop, which threatens to suffocate me. I still have a headache. All I want to do is sleep.

I got ambitious yesterday and changed the sheets on my bed because, you know, even animals deserve clean cages. As soon as I was done, my sweaty body into it and napped.

And then I needed another bath.

I occasionally slip downstairs, masked, to reheat a cup of tea or hunt for snacks. There are none. In my weakened state, I only ordered basics. But I keep hoping I’ll be pleasantly surprised.

Last night, after another short bath and clean nightgown, I curled up on the couch downstairs to watch t.v. with Hubby. He was watching a show on submarines. I was so happy to be out of my prison cell room, I almost didn’t care.

I’ve been staring at the same view for over a week, and I’ve been told that on Day 11, I am free to move about society once again. They also mention being symptom-free and I’m not sure I ever will be again. As for moving, the thought just makes me tired, and then I need another nap.

Only last May, I was marvelling at how the green leaves on the trees grew while I was sleeping with the death flu. Here we are, 5 months later. I survived the Death Flu a second time only 3 weeks ago? And now, the leaves are orange and slowly being stripped from the branches by a cold wind…and I’m still sleeping.

When life knocks you down, stay down and just take a nap!

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