Sunday health and sickness

Around about dinner time last night, Tom decided he was coming down with something, maybe just the fatigues but ... He said the only thing he felt like eating was Ramen noodles. Okay, the man was brought up Jewish but Ramen noodles is not Jewish penicillin!

He took to his bed early, allegedly to read, but when I looked in five minutes later, the lights were off, he had the covers pulled up and was curled up with Sundance. He slept late this morning and didn't really get out of bed until almost noon. He is still definitely sick. Fortunately I had gone out shopping early and happened to find a sale on Ramen noodles. A brand new case is waiting in the pantry. To show my heart is in the right place, I also got him some of the oatmeal cookies and rum raisin ice cream he likes.

While he dozed, I went over to the health club for the first time. My plan to get there early enough to avoid a rush worked well. I didn't see anyone else around, and I had time to figure out which machines might be helpful and to do a set of exercises before heading to one of the multicomplicated treadmills. Just as I got on the treadmill and was studying the settings, a man emerged from one of the tanning rooms in the back. He spent a few minutes on one of the machines, made a call on his cell phone and disappeared, I think, back into a tanning room. Melanoma, here we come!

I did twenty minutes on the treadmill and then weighed myself for the first time in a while. My friends are not asking how that went and I am volunteering nothing. There is a reason I have taken to watching what I am eating.

When I got home, Tom was still in bed. I got cleaned up and did a bit of computer work. Then I took a walk outside. The Fitbit counted the steps on the treadmill, but I was still far from my personal daily goal.

When I came back from that walk, Tom was up and looking a bit, as my mother used to say, like something the cat dragged in that the kittens wouldn't eat. He is a bit concerned because Thursday we are supposed to go to Chicago to visit with Rebecca, David and the twins and then attend the ceremony Friday where Rebecca will receive her doctoral hood. We won't go if Tom isn't feeling much better soon, to avoid spreading what he now thinks is the flu.

I meanwhile will blow him kisses from afar and let the cats provide him with cuddles and warmth.