I think I finally understand that phrase. Hopefully this is my last posting on the plague that has struck my family down.
Last night I had a webinar that I had to pull myself together for. Desperate to suppress my coughing, I snarfed down half a bottle of cough syrup. The good news is that I got through my webinar without any disgusting and off-putting cough attacks. The bad news is I got a bit drunk and woke up with a doosy of a hangover that made it impossible to determine where my flu ended and my hangover began. I spent the day unconscious in bed and didn’t stir until 4 PM.
K was just as sick as me and also spent the day in bed. She didn’t have a fever and was lucid but all she wanted to do was sleep since Monday night. Once she passed her 36th hour of sleep without eating Ralf took her to the doctor, who said she’s fine and just needs to sleep it off. She roused herself and crept out of bed twice to come kiss me solemnly on the forehead.
L had a fever last night but woke up pretty fit. However, she’s a companionable sort of baby so she crawled into bed with me and slept for 4 hours, just to keep me company.
Our cat’s been loving it – people sleeping all day is totally his thing.
Ralf went out and bought a whole chicken, which he then proceeded to boil for me. ‘I think you can turn this into a soup,’ he said hopefully, poking at the pale, boiled chicken. Then he ran off to catch up on the work he’s been neglecting, while I peered in dismay at the flaccid chicken and our totaled house - toys, books, crayons, medicines, dishes and laundry everywhere. On the bright side, the fact that I was able to notice how messy everything looked seemed like a good sign.
I think we’re sloooowly coming back to life here.