Woe is me

I started feeling bad last night, and have been sick all day with the icky crud. I think I'll blame Michelle from my knitting group. She was hacking and sputtering Thursday night. I made the cross sign and kept my distance from her; but in retrospect, I did pay cash for some yarn from her (she has a craft shop downtown), and she did hand me back my change. I'm guessing her sick cooties were on that money, and me without my Purell.

I feel like I'm drowning in drainage, and the coughing is like fire in the wall of my chest. There's nowhere I don't ache, and I have a bad case of the chillls. I had planned to spend at least a few hours today knitting on the Second Oddball Charity blanket. That didn't happen.

My husband, God bless him, is a saint in many ways, but when I get sick he tends to avoid me like the plague. He'll do anything I ask him, but he keeps his distance.

I grew up with a mother who lavished me with TLC whenever I was sick. I, in turn, did the same with my kids. I don't think Hubby had that kind of attention as a child. In fact, I know he didn't. :-( His mother loved him, but having grown up without a mother herself, she didn't really know how to show affection. He has taught himself to be affectionate, but it isn't instinctive in him to pat a sick one's arm, or to stroke or caress their forehead. He thinks in terms of practicality, what 'thing' he can bring you, then hastily makes his exit from the room.

In other words, no real TLC going on here. In other, other words.........

I WANT MY MOMMY!

To his credit, he did come in the room a few minutes ago and layed hands on me and prayed for me, and the man does know how to pray. I know God hears our prayers, and I fully expect to feel better by tomorrow. Maybe then there will be knitting and pictures.