We are Sick

His cough became a cold. His cold became my sore throat. My sore throat became a cough. Now we are both hoarse and sniffling. We watched the Super Bowl with tissues nearby. We sleep and wake but not at the same time. In the morning I can see that he has been on the couch again. He sits up to stop the coughing and he reads Crime and Punishment. I toss and turn then wake clinging to the side of the bed. Am I sick enough for a sick day? Why is that so hard? I decide to stay home and the answer is clear. Home alone and quiet and not feeling well invites all the worries and fears. The kitchen counter has an array of medicines and remedies. I move from couch to bed. Tonight we will have soup and try to sleep through the night. Folie a deux? Or Flu for two?