Unfortunately hubby and I came home with an unpleasant memento from our travels. We woke up the first morning home with nasty colds, nasty enough to knock us flat on our @sses. The contents of my carry on bag clutter the kitchen table - right where I left them the first night home; the clean laundry is still in baskets yet to be put away, and the fridge is in serious need of replenishing.
Sunday was the worse day. Hubby and I lay side by side in bed, helplessly watching the minutes and hours slip by, getting up only to drag ourselves to the washroom or get a glass of water. My little sister called several times to check in on us, offering to pick up chicken soup, drugs or anything else we needed. I was too tired to entertain the offer. Lucky for me I rebounded quicker than hubby; his cold stayed lodged deep in his chest and is only now starting to show signs of recovery.
I've had flashbacks of the chorus of coughing that filled the plane as we took off, trapping us for thirteen and a half hours, thirty-seven thousand feet in the air with recycled air to breathe. I think there is a real case for requiring sick and coughing passengers to wear masks, not unlike they do at the hospital.
All in all, it was a small price to pay for the the opportunity to experience the travels we did. So now I just have to pull my butt off the couch, clear off the kitchen table, put away the laundry and make a shopping list. Tomorrow is going to be a sunny, springlike day and I'm going to be ready!