Belated Christmas

The past couple months have been a trying time in our household.  It's been one of those stretches where it seems one of us is sick nearly every week.  In early November Elizabeth (finally) came down with the "Chicken Pockers".  We were glad to see them come and relieved to see them go.  Then the weekend after Thanksgiving, Mare came down with a nasty respiratory bug.  A few days later I caught it.  We'd recovered from that bug and planning Christmas celebrations with my extended family.  This year's plan was great for us since both family celebrations on my side are local.  We've struggled the past few years to make it to (Great) Grandma Amundson's (Eau Claire, WI) since that celebration tends to fall right in the middle of all the others.  So we were excited to be a part of that celebration this year since most of the family came to the Rochester area.  Early last week everything was looking great.  We had just experienced our first basketball win and I was going on vacation until Christmas.  But...

My old nemesis came for a visit.  He came with a vengeance, blind-siding me with a one-two punch.  I fell to the floor and was slow to get up.  He had claimed victory - just look at the snapshot the day after:

So who is this old foe?  The ol' fashioned stomach flu.  For some reason I seem quite susceptible to the bug and have gone down a few times over the past decade.  On Thursday, during the middle of the night, I happened to pass-out and smack my face on the bathtub on the way down.  Next thing I knew I was lying on the floor, not knowing how I had gotten there.  I reached to straighten my glasses and soon found one of the lenses missing; it had been dislodged during the fall.  I then checked my teeth and was relieved to feel them all in-tact.  If you ever decide to head-butt a bathtub, make sure you do it while you're unconscious.  Believe me, it really doesn't hurt that way -- well, not until the next day.

So my next two days were spent on the couch doing pretty much nothing.  I am so thankful for my girls; they served me so well.  I am still in the recovering phase and they can still be found fetching for me.  Why, even today at lunch Mare offered to cut my chicken for me.  I had to refuse -- a guy has to retain some dignity, even if most is gone.

This bug has also forced me to do some soul-searching.  For the past few months I have had a dream to climb a mountain.  Rough plans have been in place to climb Mt. Whitney, the tallest peak in the continental US.  My biggest concern with the trip is the altitude sickness.  It is nearly certain that folks from a lower elevation will experience some negative effects from the altitude.  In the past I've thought I could overcome any physical obstacle that might come before me on the trip.  But this recent experience has been a reality check.  It's tough enough battle through the stomach flu in your own home.  What would I do if I had similar symptoms at 14,000 feet?  So the Mt. Whitney trip is being re-thought.  Perhaps the Lord has brought me the sickness at such a time as this; to preserve me, or perhaps just to consider something better.

So Christmas had to wait this year.  We missed the extended family celebrations, but decided to have our family celebration tonight.  Mare and I had thought to push it out until we all are feeling better, but Elizabeth was starting to have tough time with that.  She's missed a lot of special things this fall, but has been a faithful trooper through it all.  Her bucket started to overflow today when we again spoke of delaying Christmas.  And besides, who knows if my girls will stay healthy the next few days.  So let's make the most of tonight and let tomorrow worry about its own troubles...