Right after Roger and I opened our bookstore, we both got very sick. I suppose it wasn't too surprising, but it was sure inconvenient. We had our grand opening and then we closed. Roger was worse than me that first morning, so I drove down to leave a note on the door explaining that we'd reopen as soon as possible.
For days we were utterly incapacitated. We just laid there. Luckily we weren't parents yet. And luckily we had a furnace to keep us warm. We decided that if we had to put logs on a fire to survive, we'd pretty much just have to give up and die.
Ultimately it was cold applesauce that saved my life. My throat was so sore, and it was the only thing I could bear to eat. I think it took a week before we had enough strength to go back to work.
Life works much better when we take turns being sick. The worst, though, is when it's Jack's turn.