So I had the Norovirus over the weekend. I came down with it Friday night and it hit the big time at about 11 pm. From then through until 6AM, Saturday morning was a merry go round of, well, all the fun that Norovirus can give, and more.
This is my pity story.
No one likes to be sick, and the rest of Saturday was no picnic, although the throwing up had stopped. The chills, fever, had shakes continued and continued hard. Sunday I was some better. I knew this because I kept down the dry toast I made. Monday I stayed home because I'd learned via WebMD that I'm still contagious for up to 3 days after onset and also because my fever hadn't been down for 24 hours (a school rule). But as I hauled all the bedding and laundry out to the washer in the garage I learned it was a good idea I'd stayed home anyway- I was a lot weaker than I'd thought.
But the low point was Saturday at 3:30 AM. I'll tell you what happened so you can all give a good "awww" over the keyboard.
Norovirus is a throwing up and diarrhea disease. You get the idea. I was sick each hour to hour and a half between 11-3:30AM. I had read at one point, I think it was 2:00 am, that one should wash all the clothes one was wearing because the virus can live a long time even on hard surfaces and up to a week or so on carpets and fibers. I shuddered to think of kneeling on the bathroom floor and how exposed my clothes were by that point. Use bleach and warm to hot water and dry in a hot dryer, the directions said. I'd already changed 3 times, and I was wearing the last bed clothes I owned. Unless I wanted to wear my jeans to bed, I had to do a wash, and soon.
It was 3:30 AM. I was chilled, shaking, weak, and tired. The washer is in the detached garage, 30 feet away and outside. Outside was the coldest it was all year, 22 degrees and a bone-chilling night air. Sighing, I girded my loins, packed the clothes into a plastic bag, and went to the front door. I heaved a sigh, and flipped the porch light on.
The bulb blew out.
I stood there for a second, then began laughing. I mean, what else could I do? The momentary flash of light and then pitch darkness seemed like such a perfect punctuation to my awful night. It was a "take THAT" moment of extraordinary proportions.
I grabbed the emergency light, hoisted the laundry bag, and opened the door to the frosty night, stepping out the door.
At first I was all 'woe is me' because I was alone and sick. But when I really thought about it having another person there would drive me crazy and I'd hate it. So if I had to go out into the night to get the laundry done and ensure clean bed clothes for my sanitized protection, so be it. Obviously, it didn't kill me.
But the light blowing out the ONE moment I needed it? Come on...