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Jersey Shore, United States
In case any of my friends or family members actually read this Blog, please consider all Names, Characters, Places and Incidents to be the product of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales are entirely COINCIDENTAL...Muaaah!! Now, really, about me: I bring the crazy wherever I go, so I've been told...I make fun of myself more than anyone else ever could. I hate: the awkward silence in elevators, watches with no numbers, picky eaters, Cancer and legalism. I love: coffee, stalking Hugh Jackman, my Spanx, COMMENTS, sarcasm and writing: Middle Grade, NA, YA Paranormal and Urban Fantasy.

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Monday, July 26, 2010

It's all fun and games until..!

It seems like every summer, no matter how many precautions I take, my family still catches the dreaded Norovirus. There is no mistaking this plague once it's unleashed. The minute the first victim goes down, you know it's only a matter of time. One by one, slowly it creeps up to claim you and every single member of your family and any living organism you have come in contact with in the past three days.

The demonic smell of this evil virus alone, is enough to take the strongest of us all out. You have never smelled anything quite like it on the face of this earth, trust me. It's so purely unique in its foulness, you know right away that you are dealing with something horrible, something other than human. Literally, it could be the "weapon of mass destruction" we've been searching for.

Almost like being in labor, when the first clench of a stomach cramp hits you, you know your time has come. Once the Norovirus has claimed you as its next victim, for the next 12-15 hours straight, you will become its bitch. The subsequent shrieks of protests that resound from deep within your abdomen have no effect. The VIRUS, once unleashed, never deviates from its mission. It's ultimate plan, of course, is for you and your entire household to empty your bodies of any fluids or solids ingested since infancy, from every orifice you have.

Over the course of the most miserable 12-15 hours of your existence, you have only two options. Pray and wait. Wild, errant thoughts enter your head while you are wallowing in the trenches. At first, I thought, wouldn't it be easier to just lay me down in the tub and let someone come hose me off from time to time? Then, around the tenth hour, when I was delirious, angry and quite possibly mad, I thought, come on, ROTAVIRUS, bring it, what have I got to loose? Another five hours of this and I will reach my goal weight !!

Then, like a King Cobra, as quickly as it strikes, it retreats, yet you just can't really believe it's gone. Although you wait for the counter attack, it's already moved on to its next victim. This is a good thing since you have no more fight in you. There's nothing left to give. The cold tile floor in your bathroom has become your resting place and it never felt so good. You may rest there for another twelve hours or at least until the dizziness and hallucinations pass. It's not until I'm at this point, when I know it's safe to pull myself up and climb into bed. It's only when I'm strong enough to pull the scale out and weigh myself, I know it's really moved on.

Although the battle is over, unfortunately, the damage is done. The whole house is wounded and just trying to get the smell out can takes weeks. Just consider every single pot, garbage can, blanket, pillow, comforter and pair of underwear your family has ever owned as collateral damage. There is no recouping those losses.

So what advice can I give after this kind of destruction? Go on with your life. Rebuild, take comfort knowing your skinny jeans fit you once again.. Live, laugh, love to the fullest. Because you never know. It's all just fun and games, until ....

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