Quarantine is Lonely

If any of you are thinking it's time to get the swine flu, I advise against it. It's not really that much fun. My head hurts, but butt hurts (why? I don't know), my arms and legs hurt. Yesterday I found myself praying to the porcelain more than once. I have no appetite, which makes my stomach hurt all the more. Supposedly I had a fever, but that only manifests itself when I'm cold and shiver when everyone else in the house is just fine. I also had a cough, but that's subsided. I do notice a tightness around all my organs when I take a deep breath—sort like someone's squeezing them if you breathe too deep.

But that's not the worst of it.

The doctors say I have the swine flu, which carries a seven day contagion period. "No contact with anyone you don't want sick," they said. "You'll probably be able to eat Thanksgiving dinner, but you want to do it with not many people around: say alone, maybe." Ah, that's thoughtful. I can't wait to have my solitary Thanksgiving dinner.

Every year we make a Thankful Turkey for Thanksgiving. Everybody gets their own feather and you write things for which you're thankful on it. Everybody attaches their feather and then we can go back and see what we're thankful for in years to come. Pretty much every time, I write that I'm thankful for my family. The same family, I'm not allowed to eat Thanksgiving dinner with.

I'm sort of used to coming through the door to a barrage of hugs and kisses. There were no such hugs when I came home from the doctor. Mom had already explained that I couldn't give hugs. Robyn greeted me only with tears—you'd think somebody told her I was dying.

Anyway, now I lounge around my bedroom. I take turns going from the bathroom to the bed, to the computer, to the bed. Maleen brings me a plate of food every now and again. She dispenses medicine on the appropriate schedule. She brings me Gatorade when I'm thirsty.

Quarantine is lonely. I'm not taking to it well. I wish I could just hug my little ones. At least I have the Hunger Games to read. Maleen tells me it's good.