Three strikes…

20180116_221145.jpg

AGMA channeling Bob Ross

…and AGMA’s out.

I have the flu.

At least I think it’s the flu. Fever, mild chills, congestion, coughing, just feeling over all crappy. I’d be willing to write it off as a cold if it wasn’t for the fever. AGMA rarely gets a fever.

I need to get rid of this. Fast.

AGMA’s going on another juant… Back to Barcelona to track down those darned would be purse thieves. Read about my harrowing adventure here.

And I leave on Sunday morning which doesn’t give me a lot of time to heal.

(Just kidding about the purse thieves. I’m not on steroids anymore so they’d probably beat the crap out of me.)

Son #2 wants me to go to a Doc-in-a-Box.

Great idea, but it snowed last night in Atlanta. Again. And it’s really cold so…once again….the whole city has shut down.

Including the Doc-in-a-Boxes…

Evidently getting sick in Atlanta when it snows is a risky proposition.

I emailed my regular doc. I love her, but she tends to be very conventional. She said it ‘could’ just be a cold. Some colds present with fevers. And they can last anywhere from 24 to 36 hours, and if mine lasts more than 36 hours, I should come in.

Except they were closed today. I plan to be on the phone bright an early tomorrow morning.

I’m sick of being sick if you know what I mean.

I started to get a cold in mid-December but immediately did my Kung Fu cold fighting moves. Oil of Oregano, Umcka drops, zinc lozenges, neti pot (such a delightful experience…), fizzy vitamin C.

And it went away with nary a sneeze.

AGMA was feelin’ pretty, pretty cocky.

Strike 1.

Then, I came down with the mother of all colds on Christmas Day when we were in Chicago. Courtesy of TMAGCITW otherwise know as the adorable germ factories.

And I didn’t have any of my Kung Fu voodoo stuff with me.

Oh the humanity!

It took me a while to shake that cold. I must have gone through 3 boxes of tissues. I had no idea one person could produce that much mucus. Except Trump of course. I’m sure he can out mucus/snot anybody with the best mucus/snot from the best sinus’ ever.

Strike 2.

Then I awakened on Monday and whispered those 4 little words that Hubs really never wants to hear.

“I think I’m sick.”

Actually, I croaked them.

So I was hacking and coughing and snotting. And feeling really, really lazy. Then yesterday I had some pretty serious body aches and started to get chills. “Mr. Feder, you sound like a real attractive guy.”

And I though I felt a bit warm, but AGMA couldn’t find out new fangled thermometer that you stick in your ear.

But I honestly didn’t suspect the flu. What a dolt….

So I went about my business yesterday. I had a corporate chair massage job in the afternoon. I loaded up on cough suppressant and the kids stuff that dries your nose up. I had 10 clients. Oops.

Then I went to a “Paint like Bob Ross” night at a local pizza place. I felt like sh*t, but we’d paid for it already so I went. AGMA didn’t want to be a wimp.  After all, I’m a mom, I know how to power through.

In hindsight (and I have spectacular hindsight), I wouldn’t have done the chair massage job. But the Bob Ross night was a total HOOT – we got wigs and painted a snowy mountain scene. I probably would have still done that.

Don’t judge me.

I got concerned today when I finally found the ‘stick in you ear’ thermometer (honestly, are those things really accurate?). I was at nearly 101.

Hmmmm…

Then I looked up the symptoms of this 2018 version of the flu. I had 6 out of the 8 symptoms.

Hmmmm…

Strike 3.

AGMA has cleared my calendar until I leave.

I missed dinner with Son#2 tonight. It was his early birthday dinner – I’ll be gone on his real birthday. This makes me sad. Hubs went out with him instead.

And I’ll be missing an event called Power to the Polls GA on Saturday to mark the 1 year anniversary of the Women’s March in DC and Atlanta. Instead of marching again this year, the organizers are maturing the local resistance movement to bring together amazing speakers, have workshops in grassroots empowerment and provide plenty of volunteer opportunities as the 2018 mid-terms approach. And considering the Yuge Girth Cheeto Sh*thole’s antics of the past week, those mid-terms can’t get here fast enough.

AGMA will certainly be engaged in continued resistance to the attempted dismantling of our democracy. But it’s just nice to be around folks who have really put some skin in the game. And are wearing pink pussy hats.

*sigh*

I know, a barely 1st world problem (because we’re barely a 1st world country anymore.)

AGMA’s out after her three strikes.

I’m tired and sad that I am missing fun and important stuff. And I’m concerned about flying in an enclosed metal tube with recirculated air for 9 hours on Sunday.  And coughing.

So AGMA’s going to tuck in for the night and pretend like everything is going to be fine.

Hope springs eternal.

See you in Barcelona!

Oh, I Think I’ve Learned That Lesson…

Image

Sitting in my favorite coffee shop on Tuesday “crafting” my last blog post, I watched as beautiful white snowflakes started lightly falling.  Delightful!  They started to come down harder.  Living the southern part of the US, I thought I’d better get my fanny pack home before the crazy drivers hit the road.  After all, there was a winter storm warning posted.  Really there was.  So I went home.  And then all hell broke lose.

Yes – you guessed it – I live in the Atlanta area.

I grew up in western Pennsylvania.  We either walked to school or rode on a school bus that was more like a tank than a bus.  School cancellations were rare even though we got something like 200 feet of snow a year.   Okay – I may have made that number up.  But we did get a lot of snow.  And there were a lot of hills.  I still remember my father putting chains on our car and that distinct sound when they hit the road in their rhythmic metallic monotony.   Post-tire chain banning legislation, studded tires became all the rage.  You knew winter was coming when it was time to put on the “snow” tires.

Most of my adult life, I was a Buckeye.  Ohio, home of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Schmidt’s cream puffs and Cincinnati-style chili.  Winters are not quite as bad as in Pennsylvania, but we still had plenty of snow, sleet, freezing rain and ice.  Sometimes all at once!

I was an odd ball.  I enjoyed when my kids school would get cancelled.  It meant that we could all play in the snow!   We did “snow things” – created snow angels, went sledding/saucering, built snow forts/igloos and snowmen, had snowball fights.  And at the end of the day – a huge pile of soaking wet snowsuits, jackets, gloves, hats, scarves, socks and boots by the garage door, cocoa by the fireplace, and a sound, deep sleep that night.  Fun times!

What happened in the Atlanta area this week wasn’t fun.

You all heard about it on the news so I won’t go over it again.  Depressing really.  Infuriating actually.  The news coverage was surreal.   Hopelessly clogged roadways, sheets of ice that were once interstates littered with jack knifed tractor trailers, people in leather shoes and jackets abandoning their cars in 15 degree weather after driving 3 miles in 8 hours.  The cars – out of gas, dead batteries, wrecked.  The people – hungry, thirsty, needing medications or a bathroom, sleep deprived, at their wits end…  Some walked 6 miles to get home or to shelter.

The worst of it was the children.  Hundreds stuck in unheated school busses, some in ditches.  The kids marooned at school were lucky.  They had heat and food and water and toilets and familiar adults around.  Some children made it home – eventually.  They got rides from people they knew.  They got rides from strangers.  Think about that one…  And when many got home – hungry, thirsty, exhausted and frightened – the house was empty.  Their panicked parents were out looking for them, stuck either in the unrelenting gridlock or on the many hills that were impossible to climb.

Our children.

I try not to get too political.  I hate what politics has become.  But I think the Atlanta metro area needs to suck it up, put their big boy pants on and pull them up.   We need to figure out what to do so that we never, ever allow our children to be put a risk like this again.  That might mean that each little city-state fiefdom down here might have to give up some of their autonomy.  That might mean some higher taxes for strategic transportation improvements.  That might mean hiring people who actually have experience in developing and implementing emergency/disaster strategies rather than relying on the “good old boy” network to fill critical public safety positions with political cronies.  “Brownie, you’re doing a heckuva job…”

Our elected officials say they will apply the “lessons learned” from this week’s debacle as if they were talking about the implementation of a new IT payroll system didn’t go as planned.

Really??

I hope the people of Georgia will apply their own “lessons learned” come election day.

For our children.