GOD HAS A STRANGE SENSE OF HUMOR

I had the flu this week. Thank God I’m on forced retirement because I couldn’t have gotten up to go to work even if the Chippendale Dancers were going to be there at lunchtime.

I woke up Monday morning feeling like an elephant sat on me during the night. I managed to get up and scuff my way to the bathroom. I stopped to look at myself in the mirror. Why do I do that? I know how pitiful I look when I’m sick. It’s like it’s not official unless I look at myself. My complexion was the color of a new pair of ecru spring shoes. My eye sockets resembled that of a character from Night of the Living Dead. My eyes had dark circles that drooped down to my knees. As if that weren’t bad enough, the entire crown of my hair was sticking up like the comb of a rooster. God has a strange sense of humor.

As I was sitting on the commode with my eyes closed to keep from noticing that the room was orbiting as nicely as any planet, I then began to feel nauseas. Of course nausea would hit me at that moment. The waste basket was wa-a-a-a-ay across the room, next to the sink. Very funny, God.

“Help”, I called, hoping The Frontiersman would hear me. “Help. Somebody. Anybody.” Did I mention The Frontiersman is nearly deaf? Very funny, God.

I got up from the throne and carefully guided myself the one-half mile or so to the other side of the bathroom, by holding onto the wall. I grabbed up the waste basket and inched my way back to the bedroom. I think the entire trip took about four hours. By that time, my head was spinning, my body was hurting and I was freezing.

Once back in my bedroom, I very carefully placed the waste basket next to my bed and climbed into my warm, cozy bed. I buried my head into my soft, cloud-like pillows, pulled my nice, warm blankets up around my chin and closed my eyes.

Have you ever been almost asleep, but felt like someone was watching you? I slowly opened one painful eyelid. What a mistake. My two little Miniature Pinschers were standing on the bed, wagging their entire bodies and smiling at me. Very funny, God.

“Lie down”, I said with as much sternness as I could muster. “I’m sick. I’m going to sleep.” Now, I don’t know if dogs really understand English or not, but they weren’t buying it. Just as I closed my eye, they moved in closer and began licking my face. I think they were actually trying to pry my eyes open.

“Stop it. Go to sleep.” I called out, weakly. More licking and now they were also beginning to sing at me.

“Dan”, I called out to The Frontiersman. No answer. “Dan.” No answer. Was I really calling out to him, or was it just a dream? I dragged myself out of my cozy little cave and, with my little dogs at my heels, I called down the stairway, “Dan.” I knew he was downstairs because I could hear the TV and I heard him stirring coffee. “Dan.” Nothing. Did I mention he’s almost deaf?

We recently put in a new staircase but we don’t have the railing up yet, so I very carefully descended the stairs while holding onto the wall. This was the first time since we put the stairs in that they gyrated like the ones in a fun house. Ok, God. This is not funny.

As I reached the bottom step and turned, looking into the living room, guess who was sitting in his easy chair, watching TV and drinking coffee?
Me: “Dan. I’ve been calling you.”
Dan: “Huh?”
Me: “I’ve been calling you.”
Dan: “Oh. What?”
Me: “The dogs want to go out.”

Get this. “Ok”, he said, “Let them out.”

I was trying to maintain my naturally calm, gentle demeanor in spite of the fact that I might upchuck at any second.

“I’m sick”, I started, very composed. “The dogs want to go out. I’m sick. I want to go back to bed.”

“You’re sick?” He asked, sounding amazed. “What’s wrong?”

Now, I realize The Frontiersman also wears glasses, but he was looking right at me.

“Are you looking at me?” I asked. I crept my way over to him, holding onto my head to keep it from breaking into pieces and falling to the floor. “My head hurts. My body hurts. I’m nauseas.” I stated. “I’m going to bed.”

“You don’t look good,” he said. (Can you believe it?) I slowly turned around and made my way back to the stairs, hoping to get back in bed and sleep for the next week.

“Hey, Shar”, I heard from what seemed to be coming from a tunnel somewhere. It’s ok, I thought. I’m just dreaming. Suddenly, I felt a hand on me, rocking me back and forth as if a volcano had exploded under my bed.

“Shar.” I slowly opened one eyelid. The Frontiersman was standing over me. “What?” I asked. “What’s for dinner?” The Frontiersman asked as if he expected me to jump up and start cooking. “Dinner, what time is it? I just went to sleep, didn’t I?”

“It’s five-o’clock”, he announced, as if he were the town crier.

“What would you like for dinner?” I asked, opening my painful eyelids.

“I was thinking some pasta with sauce and meatballs would be good”, he replied.

“Good”, I said. “Clean up when you’re finished, and bring me some chicken broth.”

“Right”, he said, disappointedly. He can’t be serious, I thought.

I don’t remember if he brought me any broth or not, but I really didn’t care. I just wanted sleep.

******** ******** ********

I opened my eyes and, miraculously, they almost didn’t hurt. Slowly, I sat up on the edge of my bed. The room wasn’t spinning anymore! I stood up and looked at the clock. It was six thirty, and either getting dark out, or it was getting light.

I got back into bed, propped up my pillows behind my back and sat there listening. After a few minutes, I noticed it was getting lighter outside. I heard faint sounds coming from downstairs. Just then, my little dogs dashed up the stairway, into the bedroom and jumped into bed. All at once, I was being showered with so much love you’d think I’d been away for a week.

I heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and then The Frontiersman appeared in the doorway. “How are you?” he asked. “I feel much better”, I replied. “Good”, he said, “you’ve been sleeping for almost two days and I’ve run out of meal ideas.” Very funny, God.