This sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, fever business is getting old. (I may have heard that somewhere before.) Then there's the no sleep, nausea, and producing my body weight in mucus. I know. It's not pretty. I'm so over it. This virus is kicking my behind. I'm going on seven days now, which is totally unacceptable. Luckily, I have the best doctor ever. He's a little bit strict, but he takes good care of me, does the laundry, takes care of Stella, and cooks...and then he goes back to the hospital for trauma cases from 7pm to 7am...AND I may have gotten him sick, too. I'm starting to think he may be having more fun (and getting more rest) at the hospital. Who would have thought that anesthesticizing (how in the heck do you spell that??) putting gunshot victims under would be better than staying home? All I know for sure is that we all need a vacation. On the beach. In a pretty house. Because pretty houses on the beach probably make people forget that they are sick.