Da Crud

As I continue to battle the crud this morning, I must think positive thoughts. The crud launched a surprise attack on me late Monday night with its full artillery. It caught me offguard and obliterated me during that first two-hour battle. There were moments when the thought of dying in the bathroom battlefield didn't seem so bad.

Along with the crud came leg cramps every hour upon the hour. Needless to say, I did not get a good night's sleep, which was sorely needed after a 4-hour nap the night before. I took it easy yesterday. No latte. No chunk of cheese for lunch. Eventually, I was feeling pretty good.

Even went to town on an errand for my mother. I was feeling so good that I ate a peanut butter cookie at her house, feeling most assured that the crud had given up its assault on my tummy. The cookie tasted good but within an hour or so, I paid the price.

The crud came back, armed with more misery---chills, fatigue, body aches, runny nose, no desire for food, tummy hurting from being all tied up in a knot with miserable nausea as a chaser. Life goes in slow motion with the crud, except for bathroom trips.

It was so bad, in fact, that I made myself get off the couch in the midst of my man's victory speech in St. Paul. What could be so bad to keep me from watching every nuance of Barack Obama's history-making ascension to the Democratic nomination for President?

The crud could, and it did.

I put on my shoes, wrapped up in a warm coat and went to town, hoping the crud would not attack me on the way. A quick scurry through Yoke's Pac n' Save yielded a case of 7-Up and a box of Theraflu. The checker asked, "How are you?"

"Not good," I said. "I've got the crud."

Recoiling, she said, "I don't want to be near you."

Little did she know I didn't want to be near me either, but I had no choice. Once in the car, I popped the top of a 7-Up can, took a quick sip and hoped for results. 7-Up has a way of providing a little relief from a nauseous gut-ache. Within minutes of arriving home, I drank a cup of hot Theraflu and went to bed. Slept every drop of seven hours, which is a rarity.

This morning I feel better, but the same happened yesterday. So, the ingestion of any food today will be done with great care and with strategic location of my crud-filled body near a facility.

It's not fun having the crud. It makes you take stock in what really rules our lives, superseding every other aspect of our being.

So, I'm gonna take it easy and hope the crud gets bored hanging around in my system and finds something else to do. But rest assured, I'm not gonna wish for it to drop in on anybody else.

This crud is not a nice visitor.