I’m not going to get sick … I’m not going to get sick …
How many times have you tried to talk yourself into this, knowing full well you’re next in line? The inevitable is happening. The more you fight it, the more defenseless you become.
I had a miserable bout with the flu this past week. Symptoms started on Monday, but I didn’t allow myself to get the bed rest I needed until Friday, and so naturally, for our mini pre-Thanksgiving family reunion, I was on my death bed.
When you have the flu, people, while keeping at a safe distance — like in the next state — even when talking to you on the telephone…I can picture them in protective masks … have plenty of advice.
Drink lots of liquids. Stand on your head. Just kidding. My sister Julie’s advice, “Have Dad make one of his “Hottie Totties,” a home remedy involving Presidente. Jell-O shots didn’t work.
Aunt Chelo’s solution to mom, via Dallas, sounded like some ancient healing ritual. Chelo said to fill my naval … I’m not making this up … with alcohol. By the next morning, I would be better.
I thought about it, but never did it. If you try this, let me know if it works.