The First Strike

I think it must have started on Sunday night. We had our monthly family book club meeting that evening; it's when most of the women in my family gather at their computers and we talk about our chosen book, as well as anything else that needs discussing. When asked how we were, three of us reported that we were tired. But I'd had a very full Sunday (leading choir practice, teaching Sunbeams last minute, feeding the missionaries dinner), so I assumed that's why I was dragging.

I had a fair amount of energy yesterday (though I did take a mid-morning nap) until bedtime. That's when I crashed. Bryan got home towards the end of the bedtime routine. About that time of the night I'm usually wrapped in a blanket (pesky low blood pressure) to stay warm, but last night I was still shivering from the perceived cold inside our house. Bryan commented on how warm our room was, which sent up a red flag for me. Then the aching and coughing started. I finally realized I had a fever.

So I slept. First I drifted in and out of sleep while I tried to read. I finally gave up and called it a night. Then, after getting the kids to school this morning, I snuggled with Sophie on the couch and slept some more. I feel much better tonight, so maybe whatever germs hit me decided not to stay? Or maybe they're just lying dormant waiting for a really inopportune time to strike...