The Thanksgiving Curse

So, Thanksgiving. Yeah. It probably ranks up there with all the other holidays I would love to forget. Which would be every other Thanksgiving when we’re scheduled to go to Joe’s parents’.

You see, we’re cursed when it comes to the Thanksgivings we spend with his family. Every time, we either get sick at his parents’ cabin or we are blessed enough to get sick before we go. Two years ago, Joe and Lucy were sick before the holiday, and I came down with what they had on Thanksgiving, spending the night throwing up with my mother-in-law and grandmother-in-law watching. Yeah. It was as much fun as it sounds.

This year, as I’ve already told you in great detail, Lucy came down with the croup on Wednesday. We decided we’d wait to head to the mountains on Friday so she would have had the antibiotic in her system for 48 hours and wouldn’t be contagious. We had a really nice day with just our little family. We took Lucy to our town’s BRAND NEW Dunkin’ Donuts for breakfast.

And, we watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade (some of us, in a box).

Then Joe and I made lunch while Lucy played outside with the neighborhood kids.

But, then…THEN, I got sick Thanksgiving night. As in, I thought I was going to die sick. I am not even exaggerating. My temperature got up to almost 101 degrees, and fluctuated between that and 99.9 all night. I had chills. My body ached and my skin hurt. My throat hurt. I was miserable.

The next day, I was feeling OK, so Joe and Lucy headed to the cabin while I stayed home. My fever was down to 98.8. I was on the mend. Insert laughter here. I was so naive. That afternoon, my temperature spiked back up to 100.9, so I headed to our local urgent care facility. There was a four hour wait. FOUR HOURS. So, I headed to the next closest one. I was in a room in 20 minutes and, though my flu test came back negative, the doctor said it’s only 70 percent accurate, so gave me a prescription for Tamiflu. I also got an antibiotic because my white cell count was high, indicating an infection.

The next day, well, I didn’t feel like death anymore, so I consider that improvement, and I’ve continually gotten better since. Hooray.

So, that was our Thanksgiving. I wonder what will happen two years from now to keep us from the mountains.

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Hi! I’m a wife to a wonderful husband, mom to a beautiful and active (to put it lightly) kiddo, and fur-mom to 3 crazy cats. I’m a former journalist. I quit my full time job two years ago. Now, I am a freelance writer and a virtual assistant for several bloggers!

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