Sick

Jack has planned a ginormous trip for us coming up soon.  He hasn't taken a two week vacation since 1998, and this one will span three weekends.  Not one.  Not two.  Three.

Okay, I know I not supposed to tell the internet where I am going or when.  Our home will be protected by a vicious lap dog and his keeper while we are gone.

Actually, small dogs like Fox can be kind of snarly.  My daughter, Claire Adele, told me small dogs bite people more often than larger dogs.  Who knew?

The goals of this trip are

a)  Jack will disengage from work and rejoin the family, and then 

b)  I will decide to stay married to Jack.

I will also get to visit my friend Carla in her new home.  Yay!

We will have a long flight, and change a few time zones.  (Okay, we are going to New Zealand.  OMG!  Seriously, New Zealand.  We are going to see lots of sheep and beautiful countryside and hopefully no Orcs.)  

What has got me worried about visiting a land that has super friendly people and no predatory animals?  Yes, they drive on the wrong side of the road.  That is a little spooky.  I am mostly worried that there are lots of nasty and tenacious germs floating around Seattle.  My daughter's high school has 40 cases of whooping cough.  I know three families that have had pneumonia.  I've heard of kids having fevers for a week. 

All of this is not cool as we are prepping for a trip of a lifetime.  I do not want anyone in my family to get before we go or while we are there.  I've taken enough vitamins to strengthen my immunity that my pee is a flourescent shade of yellow that glows in the dark.

I am torn between wishing I was sick so I could get it over with (5% of me), and wanting to avoid all contact with humanity until we depart (95% of me).  Okay, I am not torn.  I just don't want to get sick.  If I have to, I want it to be clean and swift and over as soon as possible.

Pray for me.  Or pray for the ill and suffering.  That is probably a nicer thing to do.