The Flu Ravages On

"I don't like the hurtingness of throwing up."

That was Hillary this evening after her somethingth trip to the toilet to vomit (or, for the squeamish, to engage in reverse peristalsis). However, it could also have been Abigail, who spent her weekend in Fargo racked with heaving. Or, for that matter, Suzanna, who kicked off the trend last week. What a persistent flu bug, marching from one little dollie to the next like a locust in a field.

It has so far stayed away from Susan and me, although one of its relatives invaded my head and has been wreaking havoc with my sinuses all weekend. All day Saturday and Sunday, while my beauties were away in Fargo, I lay around the house drifting in and out of sleep, coughing, breathing through my mouth, and blowing my nose incessantly. I lived on apple sauce and wheat crackers for those two days, too, since my stomach felt none too certain, but that turned out to be a false alarm.

The weather may seem like autumn or spring (50 degrees? in January? in North Dakota?!), but winter has struck our household illness-wise.