I have had the flu at least four times in my life.
The first time was when I was probably seven or eight. I barely remember it; I do remember that it lasted a long time, and that I spent a long time in bed, and I did crafts at home with felt and glitter and Styrofoam.
The second time was around 1977, in college. Everyone had it, and we were all bedridden and miserable and had a horrible cough. The college dispensary gave out big bottles of bright green syrupy cough medicine with codeine, which at least allowed us to sleep.
The third time was in Tunisia, while I was in the Peace Corps. I slept on the sofa for days, with our housecat breathing sardines in my face, and I was so miserable that I didn’t even care.
The fourth time was in the early 1990s, while working at my current job. I passed out in my office, I remember that. I spent at least a week at home, and I was barely able to crawl from room to room. After the flu, I ended up with a case of walking pneumonia that lasted several months.
I have not, however, gotten the flu since I began getting a yearly inoculation. And thank Buddha for that.
People think that the flu is a bad cold. It is not a bad cold. It is a very serious illness. It killed my great-uncle Dewey, for one.
So, kids, get your little flu shot today.
Poor little frail weak Uncle Loren isn't sure if he can live through a fifth bout of the flu, and he certainly doesn’t want to be exposed to more viruses than absolutely necessary.
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