One Flu Over Our Nest

J-Man was on his death bed last night.  For clarification, he wasn't actually dying, he just believed he was dying.  And he was so, so sure.

I opened the door to find him face down in a pillow, half-covered by the big mexiblanket and he groaned some version of hello.  When I kissed his forehead I knew he must be sick because for the first time maybe since we've been together he had a fever.  Serious stuff.

Since I'm into temping nowadays I happily took his temperature, which thankfully wasn't too high, just enough to make him crazy.

As we finished up the final episode of the Civil War series he believed he might be dying of something awful like Lee or Stonewall, who both muttered war-related commands moments before their last breath.  His version included quotes like "Ernesto sit down" and "No one did their homework? Really?" remnants of our 'battles' in the bronx not all that long ago.  I laughed at his sillinesss.

Soon after he changed from hallucinations to important statements.  "Spend the life insurance well.  Save some for Lil Bro.  Use the rest to live and write.  There should be enough."

I called Mama H for some nurturing advice (apparently it's not one of my natural talents) and J-Man called out to her to say how he appreciates everything she's done for him in this short life.  She made me tell him that she plans to continue to do so for many years to come.

Eventually, after lots of tv watching, a little toast, water, alka seltzer and hugs, J-Man fell asleep.  What he called E-boli and H1N2 Return of the Swine has started to pass, and just in time for spring weather.

Next step - full disinfecting of the apartment!