Friday afternoon my nose started running. On Saturday the fever hit. My fourteen-year-old went though this a week ago, so I knew what was in store. I called in a week of sick days, not only for myself, but for my eleven-year old whose symptoms mirrored my own.
     So we've spent the last week on the living room sofa watching the history channel, drinking juice and blowing our noses. When I get up twice a day to drive my oldest to and from school, I am dizzy enough to remember that I'm not playing hooky, that I am doing my patriotic duty by keeping my germs to myself.
     I've worked sicker. In fact, I usually do. Since my immune system is busy fighting the flu virus, my hands don't hurt, my feet don't hurt. I actually have a bit more energy. The return of joint pain will probably be my best signal that I've beat influenza. I'm not sure I want to get well.