Publisher's Desk

It came at me like a ton of bricks.

A week ago Sunday morning I was just fine. By early afternoon, the onslaught of fever had begun.

I am old enough now to have gone through my fair share of flus and colds, so I decided on that Sunday to sweat it out.

Off to bed I went clad in a wool beanie, t-shirt, jacket, pants, socks and two blankets. Even with all that on, I could barely get warm enough.

It was a greatly pleasurable experience when I did finally get warm. I could feel the heat radiating throughout my nerves.

The next morning, it was back to work. I have to build the newspaper on Mondays, and this week was no exception. So, B-vitamins, aspirin and sinus medication.

It took all day, but I did it. The paper got out.

Then I went back to bed. I remained pretty much bedridden for the entire next week.

This experience definitely wasn’t as fun as I remembered when I was a kid. No sweet pink Amoxicillin or mom hovering protectively with a cool wet towel for my head. No classic cartoons on the tube.

As I write this now, I am still in the throws of whatever disease this is. I am awaiting a COVID-19 test, so we shall see.

If this is not COVID, it sure is one hell of a flu. If it is, this little booger has certainly lived up to its name.

The only things I can eat right now are cold fruit in a can and some pudding. A bite of anything solid wants to come straight back out.

It is with great difficulty I am getting this paper out again this week. But I have no choice. There is no other me.

Oh well. Once more unto the breech...