Hey, I’m feeling funny! Just not my usual kind of funny. This swine flu thing has me feeling funny in my stomach. Even my Abraham Darby roses seem to be feeling a bit glum but I think that might have something to do with not getting enough water while I was in Utah. I don't think water will help what is getting me in the gut. I think they call it “anxiety”. But, hey! What do I have to be worried about?
My husband works in a school full of kids with relatives who might or might not be driving up from Mexico to flee the flu this very moment or could even have been here for some time. But so what?
The fact that the elementary school down the street from where he teaches was closed down yesterday due to the flu is nothing to get my panties in a bunch. Right?
I keep telling myself that the sore throat, headache, lethargy and fatigue I’m experiencing are all due to my being out of town, not getting enough sleep and whooping it up with serious drugs (also known as wheat and sugar). Plus, my fibro always acts up a few days before it rains (it hits here tomorrow.) (The rain, not the flu. It's already here in my county.) Oh, and I was in not one but TWO international airports on Monday. Nothing to worry about. Everything is going to be okay.
Yet, I can’t get that image out of my mind. The one I witnessed as I was riding along the moving catwalk in the Salt Lake airport just moments before I learned of the swine flu epidemic from the TV set up at my gate. The one of a woman weeping and running, her long, black hair streaming out behind her as she cried, “Mama mia!” The one of “Mama”, clearly a recent arrival, pulling her suitcase behind her, her black eyes filled with tears.
Then another image crowds my mind. The one of the Little Guy back when he was three and became severely dehydrated from just the regular-ol’-flu and had to be hospitalized. Twice.
Yet, I can’t get that image out of my mind. The one I witnessed as I was riding along the moving catwalk in the Salt Lake airport just moments before I learned of the swine flu epidemic from the TV set up at my gate. The one of a woman weeping and running, her long, black hair streaming out behind her as she cried, “Mama mia!” The one of “Mama”, clearly a recent arrival, pulling her suitcase behind her, her black eyes filled with tears.
Then another image crowds my mind. The one of the Little Guy back when he was three and became severely dehydrated from just the regular-ol’-flu and had to be hospitalized. Twice.
I think of him up on the stage for The Three Piggy Opera, swinging those hips and shaking that finger saying, “No way! No way! No-oh-oh, way! Not by the hair of my chinny chin-chin!”
If only it were that simple.
If only it were that simple.
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- Wife, mother, novelist, gardener, bloggist, lover of good books, roses and vintage charm; passionate about her family, words, roses, vintage home decor, found treasures and the color pink.
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