The norovirus. I know because I came down with it during the early hours of Wednesday morning.
I'll spare you the gory details but, needless to say, it is nothing I ever want to deal with again. With all the moaning I was doing, my dear, sweet wife thought that I was dying. So did my youngest daughter, who's visiting for a few days. My youngest grandson was all tied up with "Handy Manny" and wasn't too concerned with the status of my health.
This stuff is very contagious so Wednesday evening Sherri washed or Lysoled everything in sight. I was relegated to the bedroom, or as Katie called it, "The Cesspool." Not being able to spend any time with my grandson didn't make me feel better.
But now I believe there is hope. There's a good chance I'll survive this virus. I missed a lot of work, including Wednesday's worship service (thank you Pastor Breitbarth!). Hopefully, I'll be ready to go on Sunday.
Now, having escaped The Cesspool it's time for a delicious breakfast of toast and tea, followed later by a delicious lunch of toast and tea and, later tonight I think for dinner I'll have - you got it - toast and tea!
