I Don't Get Sick

I spend an awful lot of time crowing about how I never get sick.

Except when I do.

Sam was sick first, I'm told, but my beautiful wife was the first person I saw showing signs.

But I wouldn't get it. I'm ten feet tall and bullet-proof.

Damn, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

So, take some time and rest, right? That's what needs to be done in such a situation.

Except I couldn't.

I was scheduled to be a co-presenter at a course for 60 people or so at a place a couple of hours from home. So I left on Sunday night after pasta and a nap.

Just the drive was grueling, but the thinking being that I could get a good night's rest close to the site and be ready to do the training.

Except I couldn't.

I was awake in the hotel at 2:30.

There's not a lot that can be done from 2:30 until 6 in the morning, but I couldn't sleep either.

Too sick.

I should call them and apologize, I thought. I can't go like this.

Except I did.

"You look like hell," the host said. "And I have some bad news, the other trainer is sick and won't make it. You have the entire 8 hours. Are you up for it?"

I should've answered it any other way than the way I did.

"Certainly."

And I must admit that it was the longest 8 hours of my life.

I kept using the nasal spray.

I told some jokes.

I talked and talked and talked and talked.

7 and a half hours in the host came up to me:

"I can play a movie and kill the last half-hour if you wanna' take off."

I made the two hour ride home.

Barely.

The host sent me a text:

"Thank you for the effort!"

Geez, that made it all worth it!