I went to Scottsdale and all I got was this crappy virus.

This is the one where I tell you how I waited for three long, bitterly cold months to spend a week in the delicious warmth of the Arizona sunshine reuniting with family at my nephew's wedding and sitting by the pool visiting with lifelong college friends and then got sick on the first day and didn't get better until it was time to go back home.

Seriously, you guys, I just spent a solid week in Arizona sicker than I've been in years with a weird bug that started as a typical gunky sinus thing and ended with 36 hours of me feeling like I was going to either vomit or pass out or both (but thankfully did not do either). But since it makes for a good story, I'll let you enjoy my pain.

I'd like to say it's not a comedy, but now that I'm back in the 40° weather, I'm finding that laughing about it is the only way I can live with what happened without collapsing into violent sobs.

Day 1 - Travel Day.
Woke up with a sheet of snot coating the back of my throat. Refused to accept the fact that I might be getting sick, popped zinc and Vitamin C until our evening flight, when I replaced zinc and Vitamin C with wine (obviously).


Day 2 - First Day in the Sun = Denial.
Slept terribly (if you need a refresher on what nights are like when the four of us share one hotel room, read THIS) surprisingly not due to the snoring and sleep talking/fighting and "oversized queen" beds (liars) but because of the sheets of snot running down my throat forcing me to get up every hour to hoark and hack up mucus balls like an 80 year old man.

Hey, I never said this story would be pretty.

But I rallied, because we were in Arizona! We had an entire day at the pool with my sister-in-law who lives in California! It was 85°!!
By the second "Mama's Special Lemonade" I couldn't even feel all that snot.
By bedtime, I had no voice and my throat felt like it had been scratched by Wolverine.

Day 3 - Lost: Michelle's voice. 
Slept terribly (see above) and woke up with throat so raw and swollen and tight I could barely get the spit down.  Put myself on vocal rest (my family was super depressed about that) and started downing the hot tea (which I dislike) with honey (which I detest).
Spent the day sitting by the pool and chatting with our good friends from college which made me forget the searing pain in my throat. Pushing my voice out all day was exhausting, but I was told I sounded like Batman, so I took that as a compliment and kept going.

Day 4 - The Wedding.
Slept terribly (surprise) and awoke to the fun new development of complete head congestion, body aches and slight nausea.
Sent Husband to the mall with the Things (I will pay for that one day, I'm quite certain) and tried to sleep, which was not easy what with the swallowing of glass shards and all, and then had the bright idea to go out to lunch with the family.
One word to let you know how that went for me.
It starts with a 'd' and ends with an 'iarrhea'.
Sorry, but we're all friends here by now, right?
Anyway, I had a little over an hour to completely do both Things's hair (elaborate curled 'dos, of course) and shower and attempt to make myself presentable before we had to leave for my nephew's wedding.
With shaking hands and three - three - Imodium in my system, I managed to do it all (somebody give this lady a trophy). The hair got curled, the 'dos got upped, I got showered and made up and with a prayer to the power of those three Imodium we were off.

Three important things to know about that evening;
1. It was a lovely wedding.
2. The Imodium worked.
3. The Imodium worked.

Day 5 - Easter. The Lord may have risen, but I barely did. 
Slept terribly and surprisingly awoke to everything (except the diarrhea) worse instead of better. How could this be happening? I'm never sick!  I'm neurotic about using the cart wipes at Target, god dammit!
Went to my sister-in-law's house to visit with the Arizona family for the day.
I spent most of it lying flat on my back on the couch.
I turned down wine. That's how sick I was.

Day 6 - The day I thought I was a lot better so I decided to do a bunch of stuff and then went out to our good college friends’s house where I got hit with a wave of nausea and vertigo so bad that I had to lie on the couch for an hour sucking on ice chips (when I wasn’t in the bathroom crouched over their toilet) and ultimately made the whole family leave early to take me back to the hotel because I was certain I was about to puke or pass out. 

^^^ Yeah. That.^^^

Day 7 - Acceptance.

Decided to accept the fact that I was sick. Spent the entire day in bed in the hotel room while the family shopped and frolicked in the pool with their cousins and other assorted Arizona family members. When I wasn’t sleeping or trying to choke down peanut butter and bananas and saltines, this was my view.

Tried desperately to ignore the fact that in less than 24 hours I’d be on a plane back to the 40° weather and just concentrated on preserving enough energy to actually make it through the three hour flight upright. 

Which, I’m happy to report, I did.

And now I’m back. 

And yeah, it’s cold.

But the snow is (mostly) gone and the sun is shining, and hey! I think I lost a couple of pounds which is a cruel irony because I’d probably look somewhat decent in that bathing suit I only wore twice and won’t be able to wear again for another two and a half months. 

And I’m feeling better. 

I just told Husband I was feeling about 70% back to normal, to which he replied, “Super. Then I don’t want to hear any excuses for not unpacking and doing all the laundry.”

So I licked his toothbrush and used his Carmex when he wasn’t looking. 

And then started planning our next trip.

I need a vacation.