The Baron has the flu.

Elementary, my dear Watson: he has a fever, chills, aching muscles and joints, and mostly he sleeps. He’s had two bites of rice and some tea. Personally, I don’t think two bites of rice qualify as “food in my stomach before I take any ibuprofen” but if that makes him feel he’s not really taking pain medication on an empty stomach, it’s good enough for me.

My husband has a robust constitution. He seldom gets sick and until that awful macular degeneration descended upon his left eye, he hadn’t seen any doctors in years – despite our family practitioner’s scolding about coming in for a “check-up”. I’m with him: why go there and put yourself at risk for whatever’s going around?

Coincidentally, yesterday he took me in for a quarterly check-up for the usual medications. It’s a law now: the doctor has to eyeball you for 10 minutes every quarter if you want your prescriptions filled. As my overworked doctor said…well, never mind what he said. As soon as he has enough money saved for all the children’s educations, I suspect he’ll take up fly-fishing. He said that of his five employees, three are necessary for the paperwork required to stay in business. It was a good opportunity to explain to him why ObamaCare is an evil mix of the worst parts of two types of care: socialism’s and capitalism’s remedies stirred into a toxic brew that we were now being forced to take “for our own good”. At one point he used the term “free market”; I reminded him that the terms ‘capitalism’ and ‘free marker’ were not synonyms. Hey, a teachable moment, right?

The Baron drove me because I surrendered my driver’s license due to the limitations imposed on me by the various sequelae that trail along with fibromyalgia. I have no depth perception, poor proprioception, and my reflexes are shot. Upon reflection, I realized that being on the road with another driver who had these limitations would alarm me. Thus I am now that rara avis: an American without a driver’s license. And, yes, it is an unsettling feeling. Here in the Middle of Beyond there is no mass transportation – there is no “mass” to transport unless the pine trees start needing a trip to town. So it is drive or hitch hike. Now there’s an interesting thought experiment…

Oh, did I mention the most persistent sign I ought to get off the road? It is my tendency to fall asleep in a moving car, any car. Driving or riding makes no difference. After ten minutes a compelling fatigue descends; it lasts for about fifteen minutes and then passes only to return in an hour or so. I was fortunate not to have had an accident or to have done anyone else any harm during those times. I’d always pull off the road onto the verge, lock all the doors and pass out, but at times those moments it might take to find a safe place to pull over could be excruciating as I slipped in and out of consciousness.

So the Baron is chained to enjoying his role, Driving Miz Daisy. Yes, there are worse fates, but the situation is a constant reminder to me that he has been a man of honor when it comes to the part of our vows which talk about sickness and health.

One way to gauge the seriousness of his current bug is whether or not he frets about the pile of work awaiting him in his office. He hasn’t mentioned it once except to ask me to keep up with the comments. Of course he hasn’t been awake much to ask anything. I’m considering waking him up in a while to make sure he’s getting enough fluids.

NOTA BENE: Speaking of the comments reminds me to tell you that approving them can be problematic. Sometimes I have to click the “Approve” button five or six times before it will finally ‘take’. The Baron explained the problem, but I don’t want to have to think that hard to try to explain to anyone else what he said. However, what he told me made sense and one suggestion – that I wait a bit between approvals rather than go through them, blip-blip-blip – has improved the situation a bit.

When these ‘bugs’ do strike they don’t last much beyond forty-eight hours. We’re at Hour Twelve right now so he’ll probably be well enough to sit up and track the first hurricane of the season just about the time it hits here. Only a tropical storm, though; by the time it comes to visit Schloss Bodissey the winds will be inconsequential. Given the colder-than-usual-for-longer-than usual temperature of the south Atlantic, I’m predicting fewer hurricanes this season (the season started June 1st and will go into October). Interestingly, this one was born in the Gulf of Mexico on June 1st. The Gulf is always warmer (just ask the Danes). Thus we may see more Gulf storms. Poor Louisiana.