I have spent the last three days in the midst of a terrible, terrible flu. Fever, shakes, chills…I had forgotten what the regular, old non-avian flu was like. I think the chills are karma; I constantly make fun of people in the southwest for wearing wool coats and the like in winter (winter = <70 degrees). Nevertheless, the past three days I have been so cold from fever that I actually pulled out “The Sweater.”
The Sweater is a lovely blue creation made by my sister-in-law. My husband’s mother and sisters make beautiful handmade things all the time and give them as gifts. They insist this is not to make me feel inadequate in any way. Of course not. Nor do I ever feel inadequate when I give them something I have lovingly purchased from, say, Wal-Mart, and they give me something they have spent 30+ hours knitting by hand. Complete nonsense, of course.
Anyway, this is a hand-knitted wool Sweater that is the warmest item we own, up to and including my Himalayan raw rool sweater complete with sticks and eau de sheep (very upsetting to wear during a light rain, particularly if one goes into a warm, closed classroom afterward. It was one way to clear a room when I was in college).
I digress. So, I put this hand-knitted-by-sister-in-law-no-guilt-implied Sweater on in the dead of a Northwest winter and immediately I am warmed to my toes. So the past three days, I have been layering myself in sweats, wool socks, a polyethelyne hiking undershirt, and The Sweater, and then huddling under our single down comforter, with the heat pushed all the way up to 72 degrees. It was humiliating. And of course, I am pregnant, so I constantly had to pee, and just the mere action of my rear hitting the cold toilet seat was enough to send me into convulsions, and it would take warm water and many shaking minutes under the comforter to recover.
This morning I woke up, for the very first time since Tuesday, warm. And thankful — it is our FIFTH ANNIVERSARY today (More about this later). But regardless, I was warm, my fever and headache and chills were gone, and I felt like…a pregnant woman who has just gotten over with being sick.
One had to celebrate, so Marti took me to our favorite breakfast place and I quickly devoured my first real meal since Monday night — a croissant with eggs, ham and brie (don’t ask) rapidly followed by Haagen-Das (see this post about pregnant weight gain). After all, I had lost nearly four pounds, and the baby was hungry.
I left The Sweater, bless its blue wool heart, at home. For the next wintery chill.
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