Excuse me while I worry out loud a little bit. Husband Tony has the flu – as in full blown influenza. He is now on day 7 of misery with fever, aching, and some very nasty lung action. It was only yesterday that I was able to convince him to go to the doctor to be diagnosed. He had been resisting me, and hard.
Tony is not the typical “man cold” kind of guy. He carries on normally when he is sick, and if an illness slows him down, which this one has, then I know that it is a bad one. If he complains that something is a little bit sore, then it is time to get him to the hospital immediately.
With this personality, he insisted that he was fine to take our daughters trick-or-treating on Day 5 of his illness, pre-flu-diagonsis. He was adamant that going door to door, or rather waiting on the sidewalk while the girls went door to door, was better than coughing and hacking on children at the door as he doled out their candy. It did not occur to him that there was the option that he stay inside and rest, and that we could not hand out candy until I got back with the girls. So off went my queen, my skeleton, and my sickly husband, and when they came back home again, it was because Tony was too tired to continue. It was the first time that the girls had ever outlasted him on a Hallowe’en night.
This is early in the season to catch the flu and we haven’t had our shots yet. I am going to try to get myself and the girls vaccinated as soon as I can. If my eight-year-old with asthma catches this, she will cough until March. Yes, I have been feeling her forehead compulsively and asking her if she is feeling all right. I’m pretty sure that helps.
So all this is to say, be aware, the flu has arrived in Ottawa.