Youíve had the flu.
Notice that wasnít phrased as a question.
Of course youíve had a miserable case of flu, in some hideous form or other.
There are two automatic signs ...
One: Everyone seems thrilled when youíre sickeningly bathed in sweat, like a warm, giant sponge. You personally donít even know what day it is, but everyone around you says: ďOh, thank heaven! The fever is broken.Ē
Two: Someone brings chicken soup. Hopefully itís a few days later, or thereís going to be a dish called Chicken Nausea.
By now, youíve probably guessed that Iíve been laid low myself.
Right this minute, in fact, although maybe weíre nearing the finish line.
It started when I felt a little dizzy last Friday, got considerably worse, and at the moment Iím still so weak that I needed help just arranging my laptop.
I actually thought I might faint a while ago, but a huge dose of orange juice mainlined enough sugar into my system that we can keep going here.
As Iím sure you know, the Catch-22 of fighting any kind of flu is that thereís a stretch where you just cannot eat.
And that, of course, means you get weaker and weaker.
So you sleep.
Or maybe you canít sleep, which seems impossible but, believe me, it can happen.
Iím not sure of exact days here, but one evening over the weekend I began to freeze ó my legs in particular. And then I couldnít keep them still.
I have no idea how I finally got to sleep that night.
Maybe it was sheer exhaustion from jerking my legs for so long that I conked out like a guy finishing a marathon.
I felt better the next morning. I moved to the living room recliner, feeling a little sunshine, and promptly fell back to sleep.
Apparently I slept most of 20 hours.
You already know this, because youíve suffered it yourself somewhere along the line, but when youíre sick, days and hours and events are just a blur.
If you asked me to bet on which day I awoke in that awful pond of sweat, Iíd only have a one-in-three shot at getting it right.
Look up the word ďdeliriousĒ in the dictionary, and that awful blur is exactly what youíd find.
IíM NOT recounting my misery here for the sheer hell of it.
Itís not like Iím looking for sympathy ó or trying to explain why todayís column isnít a little more newsworthy.
No, actually this is a public service announcement.
See, Iím pretty sure I got sick because, through sheer laziness, I stopped taking my regular course of vitamins.
For quite a long time, I would lay out the little tablets to gobble down with tea and toast in the morning.
Everyone has a personal preference in the world of vitamins, but Iíve been pretty serious about daily doses of vitamins C, D and B-12, plus potassium and magnesium.
But then, for no good reason at all, I just seemed to forget about them.
I canít even tell you why.
Throughout the misery of the last four or five days, though, whenever I could form a coherent thought...
It was a pledge to get back on my vitamins.
So thereís my public service announcement, which youíre free to ignore. And Iím obviously not a doctor, so do whatís best for you.
I promise you donít want to feel like this.
Steve Cameron is a columnist for The Press. A Brand New Day appears Wednesday through Saturday each week.