My father was known (among other things) for his puns, shaggy dog stories and jokes (an arguable characterization). One of his stories is apropos of today’s situation.
It so happens that there was a witch named Enza, who was forever trying to get into one particular house. The resident was fastidious about sealing the home, which was environmentally controlled with the latest of technology. One day a visitor stopped by who was not familiar with the quirks of the owner. She opened a window and “in flew Enza”. Get it? Dad used to say it over and over again, so we would be certain to get the point.
Well, I must have kept a window open because I have the flu. Confirmed by the doc. I don’t feel that bad now because I’ve taken my meds.
They say that having the flu is equivalent to being hit by a train. Having never been hit by a train, I can’t speak to that. I will say that my coughing spells are probably equivalent to 100 sit ups. All things considered, I’d rather do the situps.
I still wonder why I would get the flu immediately after returning home to California after traveling to New Jersey to see Mom before she died. Perhaps, like she stayed around until I could get to her bedside, I stayed healthy until I got home when everything caught up with me.