Bencelita falling asleep/the flu

Yes, I have chosen to begin this blog with a photo series of my pet rat falling asleep. Why? Well, it's damn cute, for one. For two, I have nothing much else to comment on about my current state of being, for I have caught the flu. Sunday night we got back from the airport and I felt a little off, but figured I was just tired from our whirlwind trip to London. Monday morning I woke up convinced that I was dying. I spent all day Monday being violently ill, shaking, sweating, unable to eat or drink anything without horrible consequences, and generally hating life. My whole life I have thought that the flu was nothing more than a bad cold, and sort of inwardly judged those who got it and whined about it. Suck it up! I thought. I regret those thoughts now, because the flu is just miserable. Miserable.

So yesterday I felt healthy enough to venture outside to the doctors. I went, and right as I walked in I had a flash of heat and nausea, and started sweating and shaking and being all pathetic again. Super. I also lost the ability to speak, like, any Hungarian, and just thrust my little post-it note on which I had written key phrases like "vomit," "sore muscles," and "would really just prefer to die." I am joking about that last one, by the way. So the doctor took my temperature, which was apparently normal, and had me lift my shirt so he could brutally assault my muscles. "Flu blah blah blah blah," he said. At my bewildered look, and stammering about needed a work excuse, he handed me a prescription and said in the slowest Hungarian I've ever heard, "You.... must... come... back... Friday. Then... you... get... work... excuse... crazy... American... girl." He also prescribed that my friends should could delicious soups and teas for me, and swatted me out of the office, shouting, "Jew Har Velcomb!" after me and giggling with his assistant.

So I filled my presription, which is for some good stuff, especially when one has barely managed to eat. And now I'm sitting at home for the rest of the week, trying to figure out what to do with myself.