On Sunday night last week, there was just the slightest twinge in my throat. I fluffed it off, attributing it to the multitude of songs I had sung at the Kanikapila the previous day. On Monday morning, just a bit of a sniffle…Monday was beach day and I felt great-until we got home-then I was hit with fever, sore throat, body aches and profound fatigue.
Yep, despite having gotten my annual flu shot (47% effective this year, FYI) and my religious hand-cleaning before and after every patient seen, I had the flu. At the beginning of Holy Week.
I skipped the Wednesday Lenten service where I was scheduled as lay assistant-not willing to hand out cooties with communion. I skipped the two-hour choir practice following that service, as I sounded like a croaking frog anyway.
I skipped the Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services, not willing to spread my germs with my interminable cough. On Friday morning DH gently suggested that perhaps I needed a clean nighty (as, like Lazarus after 3 days in the grave, I stinketh.)
But by Friday afternoon, the body aches were less, the headache had improved and the sore throat was gone. I managed to color some eggs (the brown, tan and green eggs that my hens give make quite intriguing colors when they are dyed…), make the pies I promised for Sunday potluck…and took a bath and donned a new nighty devoid of stink.
Yesterday, on the seventh day, I rested. And it was good. Today, I will attend Easter Mass. My voice will not be beautiful, but it’s no longer frog-like. I will see the altar bedecked with lilies, and the the cross covered with fresh flowers, and I will proclaim with my fellow parishioners and all Christendom that HE IS RISEN! HE IS RISEN INDEED!
(and so am I.)
Alleluia!
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