I have sometimes been accused in the past of suffering from "man flu" - a flu virus that appears to hit men much harder than women. Some women will power through the flu, popping pills and drinking tea and disdainfully accusing any male silly enough to stay in bed as having a dose of man flu.
I'm not sure what sort of flu hit me today, but I have been flat on my back for most of it. I went to work as usual, and then around 10am, I was absolutely floored by a wave of something nasty. It was like being runover by a busload of bandicoot-rooters. I've been flung off my bike a few times and have landed splat on the concrete, and none of those road-splattering events hurt as much as the onset of this bug.
I was barely able to walk, let alone drive home. I was suddenly 100 years old - that's what it felt like. Every joint aching, every muscle screaming. I was actually panting as I walked.
Even though the beast has excellent power steering, I was hard pressed to work up enough strength to manouvere out of the car park. If the car had manual steering, I'd still be down there, panting and sweating and trying to turn the wheel. When I got home, I didn't so much get out of the car as fall out.
A shower didn't help. The glands under my arms are so sensitive, I couldn't even wash properly. My arms and legs feel like they are bruised - not in the bicep area, like you get after a day of hard work, but on the outside of my arms. I couldn't even brush my teeth at the normal rate - instead of the brush going sh-sh-sh-sh, back and forth in a rapid manner, it went shhhhhhh-shhhhhhh-shhhhhhhh, and I couldn't work up the energy to brush my fangs like I should. Lying in bed is not much fun, since I'm alternating between the sweats and the chills, and sleep doesn't want to come, even though I can't keep my eyes open. I can't face reading a book - even TV is too much.
I've bounced back somewhat after 6 hours in the sack and 4 Panadol, but even typing this is a nightmare. The kids had it earlier this week - they regularly bring back a bug from child care along with the dinosaur cutouts and finger paintings. Monkey simply flopped on the couch for two days, wimpering and too out of it to even eat ice cream, which is a sign he's not in good shape. He'd happily eat two bowls of ice cream for breakfast, lunch and dinner if we let him. Not wanting it at all showed how badly he was knocked around.
Man flu - what a bastard.