Where do I begin?
After a robust and healthy Christmas with family, Influenza A paid me a visit.
A full-blown achiever, I was glad it was Influenza A, rather than Influenza B. (Not endowed with medial expertise, I admit freely I knew nothing distinguishing the two flues.)
But I can tell you about Tamiflu, the medication.
After five days of taking it, I read The New York Times headline:
“Power Vacuum in Middle East Lifts
Militants.” (Jan. 5, 2014)
I stared at the headline and the image before me was a sparkling prototype – something new to help my unforgiving carpet. Now think about that for a moment. Power Vac. Five minutes later I reread it. Oh, that’s not a new vacuum cleaner. Thoroughly disappointing.
Coming out of the flu stupor after ten days on the couch, I reflected on my forced house arrest.
The first two days I could not endure noise or light. Bummer. Nix television, which can be a lifesaver when you’re not even up to thinking.
I wrestled with life while wallowing in pain. I was determined not to give this to another living soul. My grown children delivered meds or soup to my door, which I only opened after they were safely in their vehicles.
Convinced that drugs alter our brains, I can now testify that Tamiflu can make you half crazy. On a few evenings I thought I saw the Grim Reaper. But, he vanished when my lids closed. And luckily, I was still there the next morning.
I snuggled into my pillow and relaxed on the couch again and drifted off, realizing later I might want to write about it – if I curvived. So I jotted down a word here, a sentence there so I wouldn’t forget.
All I can say is that these pills, which looked incredibly harmless, were mind blowing.
But I made it. I’m all better. How about you?