Our checked bags made it through, Adm. Fox's purse (left at a security checkpoint) was retrieved in time to make the plane and after a slight dustup with the rental car, we were on our way.
But somewhere in the last 48-hours, probably here in Sacramento, I managed to contract a stomach flu - a nasty little bastard called a norovirus - which has been almost epidemic in this part of Northern California for months.
Lucky me.
But in a way, it is a lucky me, because we are staying with Dr. Pam, who, along with her amiga MaryJo, knew all about what was going on with me and advised Adm. Fox how to deal with my various symptoms and what she could do to avoid catching this 24-hour bug.
I won't go into detail, but let's just say, I could give Linda Blair (from the Exorcist) a run for her money in a projectile-vomiting contest.
Gawd that was awful.
Twenty-four hours after the onset of the symptoms, I am on the road to recovering, sipping an anti-viral fruit drink (Xango) downing gallons of tea and ginger ale, and planning which couch I will take my first nap of the day on.
Tomorrow I'll get back on my non-scheduled schedule.
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