Every time I type flu, lately, my fingers try for flue. Which I believe is something attached to a fireplace. Not at all what I mean. Though, at least here, where the temp has gone down to 56 degrees (according to my weatherbug program -- I'm not going outside to find out!) it could be both.
But back to flu, no e.... Most of Hubby's work crew has called in sick at least one day this week. (The ones who had it over the weekend seem to have only needed Monday.) I feel like someone has come in when I wasn't looking and stuffed my head full of cotton. (Why do we say cotton? Most of the stuffed toy stuffing -- and that's what I picture when I say that -- is polyester now.) Painful, painful polyester. Also, the ringing in my ears is louder than ever.
But I catch every cold that comes within a mile of me. All my life I have. My mother might disagree, but she always thought I attempted to waste her hard-earned money at the doctor when I wasn't really sick. (Still not sure what my motive for that might have been.) But I remember a lot of time spent pressed against the floor because it was cold, moving a few inches every so often when I'd heated it up too much, and a blanket kept nearby so I could bundle up when I was suddenly cold instead of hot.
I'm not usually quite so miserable any more, but I do still catch every cold and spend many days wishing I could add a drainage spout to either my cheeks (just under my eyes) or my ears and just pump out the fullness and pain.
What about you? Does flu hit you regularly or do you stay healthy, with maybe one illness per year, like Hubby does?