I was feeling great!  I was getting things done; in the zone … and by the next morning I did not know what hit me.  I was still wearing my mask, sanitizing my hands, and avoiding crowds.  I vaguely remembered my husband telling me the night before, with some alarm in his voice, that my body was on fire.  I woke up to a PIERCING headache and dry mouth.  It sounded like a hangover, only I don’t get them.  I heard yelling downstairs.  Our nine year old was sassing her father and things were escalating.  Summoning all my breath while simultaneously holding my throbbing head, I hollered for my two beloveds to come upstairs.  Looking probably somewhat crazed, I decreed there was to be absolutely NO yelling, that I did not feel well, and that they were on their own for the day.  The two just stood there blinking at me.  And then I fell asleep.  At some point someone came in wanting to know about dinner.  I told my husband he could get fast food (which I don’t like him to have) and I said yes when our little girl asked if she could eat all her Easter candy.  And then I fell back asleep.  Of course it was a weekend, so I had Saturday and Sunday to get through before I could call the doctor on Monday.  The next few days were a hazy dichotomy between time suspended and time speeding.  As I lay in bed I could hear the single clanging of a wind chime and the distant, melancholy sound of a train blowing its horn in sets of three.  My temperature stayed around 104º and I fell into a rhythm of sweats and chills.  Several times a day our half wolf brought me “food.”  I would wake up to find a (plush) pheasant under my chin.  Sometimes she brought me her squeaky pig or her crackly catfish, and once I got a skunk.  All the water I was drinking was causing unrelenting, burning acid reflux which could not be assuaged.  Sweet, blessed relief was found in a blue “sports drink,” which was my sole sustenance as I swigged down bottle after bottle and tried not to worry about the environment.  Having never felt this sick in my entire life, I feared it was COVID.  I was fortunate both to have a rapid results test done and have it come back negative.  It turned out I had the flu — type A.  I have heard that word used broadly whenever someone gets sick but I believe this is the first time in my life I have ever actually had the flu.  So my sweet husband drove to the pharmacy and I began taking medicine.  I started feeling better with twenty-four hours.  After forty-eight hours I ventured downstairs.  My little girl hollered “MAMA!!!” as I wobbled my way straight to the sofa.  Blue-tongued, blue-teethed, blue-lipped, and frankly slightly gamey after not having showered for a week, I felt like some creature slowly emerging from its burrow.  My child stared at me wide-eyed and I smiled to reassure her.  “I’ve missed you so much!” she cried as she wrapped her arms around me.  “You look thinner!” she exclaimed as I told her that was one thing positive to come from this.  I lost five pounds in five days.  My caring father-in-law even brought me my favorite:  matzo ball soup.  Now I am able to care for my precious family again.  The English author Thomas Fuller once said, “Health is not valued till sickness comes.”  Prior to this I would have said I have always been thankful for good health.  What I have learned is to be more mindful of others who have health issues all the time.  Each Sunday in church we pray for the sick, but I have vowed to remember them every single day; all around the world.  And God bless every doctor, nurse, aid, caregiver, and our animal companions; they are angels among us.