You Know You've Been On Chemo If...

a standard, minor, run-of-the-mill, non-strep virus knocks you on your tail for, um, going on 6 days now.

Sigh.

Sitting at dinner tonight arguing ("arguing:" a term that currently means trying to speak at a forceful level while at the same time desperately trying to swallow dinner and maintain an "I'm cool" expression when in fact each throat movement makes me feel like some strange, yet to be read about Harry Potter baddy is stabbing me from the inside) with Eric about how I WAS going to work tomorrow I realized, hmm, this must be one heck of a virus if I'm STILL feeling the effects of it nearly a week later.

No, Trela, he responded, you have no imune system. It's having to work overtime to kill the bug, therefore taking longer for you to feel better.

Oh. Well I'm still going to work tomorrow.

With the sudafed and pain killers you're needing to take every 3 hours and 59 minutes precisely?

(sheepishly) Yes. (more forcefully, at least until my throat twinges again) With the drugs. I'll be fine. (shooting the daring "and you can't stop me" look, especially impressive while I'm wearing my striped pajama pants and pink fuzzy slippers.)

At which point my dear husband pulled the secretary card, the card he reserves for dire emergencies, the card that lets me know he's deadly serious. We also call this card "Holly." He's threatening to call our building secretary in person so that she knows to bar the door if I appear at school in the morning. My fear of her wrath is far greater than living with him, so I guess I'm going to let it slide this time...

...but I'm totally going to work on Thursday.

Happy Valentine's Day!
Carpe diem. - Trela