June 20, 2019

White Dog was passing the bed when I sat up this morning, groaned, then hauled myself around the corner to the bathroom where I let the nausea overcame me.

"Momma's sick!" rang out the alarm and I was crowded with noses feeling my forehead and sniffing my eyes as I sat with my head in my lap whimpering.

Steve, who had been in the kitchen, hurried in at the commotion, and said, "You look awful!" "Matches the way I feel. I am going to crawl back and sit on the bed."

A half piece of toast and morning meds were enough to convince me I was being attacked by a flu bug. Fever, shaky, and roiling insides were enough to issue the "Momma Bed Rest!" order. Steve had a morning meeting but promised to come home as soon as he could.

"Really, everyone, I am miserable enough that you should all just leave me alone. I am not fit company."

Opal took up position and vowed not to leave me side; Bella did the same. White Dog assigned a rotating staff to make sure I was attended to and kept up fluid intake(I made a face).

At dinner I was bored with lying in the bedroom and joined the world in the living room. I DID manage a piece of toast and two bites of yogurt which WD considered progress. We are all concerned that Bailey found Steve's face a bit warm but so far he has no symptoms.

"Early, short walks and bedtime," was the decree.