I’ve been fighting a cold all week and finally Thursday, during the night, it hit me full force. I dragged myself into work on Friday morning, feeling only slightly better than death warmed over, but the Boss called me Typhoid Mary and quickly sent me back home before I infected the rest of the troops. Thank God. I probably would have tried to tough it out, which would have been just plain stupid.
I spent an absolutely glorious day at home, sitting in bed with my laptop, a tall glass of orange juice and a box of Kleenex. The floor next to my bed was transformed from hardwood to something akin to white shag for all the wadded Kleenex that covered it. Gross, I know, but I’m sick, so give me a break. I did think briefly about pulling the trash can over next to the bed, but decided it simply required too much effort.
I’m serious when I say the day was glorious. I love working from home. Everything changes. I am so much more focused, so much more productive, and so much more relaxed. Even with the constant coughing, sneezing and nose blowing, I enjoyed myself, and by the end of the day I had accomplished more than I could have ever accomplished had I been in the office.
Sometime after lunch my friend
Jenne’ stopped by. She was looking uber cool with her freshly shaved head and her bangle earrings and I briefly entertained the idea of shaving my own head, but then decided I should do a better job of shaving my legs before I started on my head.
Anyway, Jenne’s chemo kills her appetite (which in my world wouldn’t be such a bad thing) so I was excited to offer her my latest food obsession, frozen pear flavored apple sauce, just in case it would be THE thing to re-ignite her appetite. I was certain these tasty little treats would do the trick.
After becoming addicted to the pear sorbet at Karma Cuisine in Boulder, I had to find a similar fix here in Kansas City. I bought individual serving cups of
pear flavored apple sauce (think lunchbox treats) and put them in the freezer. They’re not nearly as good as the real thing, but I’ve become addicted to them nonetheless. They are cold, sweet, refreshing and I just realized,
lyphoma green! How could she resist? I pictured the two of us fighting over the last 6 pack carton at the Brookside Market, but quickly pushed the image from my mind as I went to retrieve a cup for each of us.
I warned her the cups would be frozen hard for the first 5 minutes or so, but they would start to soften up as she worked on them. Five minutes into it, I was a third of the way through mine, but Jenne’ still hadn’t made a dent in hers.
“My arm is tired,” she complained. “This is too much work!”
Jenne’ was clearly being a wuss, but I encouraged her to keep at it. After all, mine had already softened into a frosty slush.
Five minutes later I had finished mine, but Jenne’ was still poking her spoon around the top of the cup.
“I give up,” she finally declared. “I am exhausted from all this effort! It’s too damn much work! And I can’t even taste it once its on my spoon!”
Pansy ass wuss behavior for sure, but at least I wasn’t going to have to arm wrestle her for the pear sauce inventory at the grocery store. Plus, I was going to get to finish her cup, and I think I read some where that the calories don’t actually count if you weren’t the one to open the container.
We keep the
laser guided thermometer gun my Dad gave Sam for Christmas in the living room next to the chair just for situations like this, so I used it to take her temperature. I discovered she was only registering about 86 degrees, which is clearly not warm enough to properly defrost a 4 oz. cup of pear sauce so I decided to give her a break. Since my body temperature is generally just slightly cooler than the surface of the sun, I have superior defrosting capabilities. Of course.
Jenne’ left to go to her doctors appointment and I finished her pear sauce cup and then went back upstairs to wade through the discarded Kleenex to get back into bed.
Never has a sick day at home been so grand!
