Adventures in the ER

My husband is Canadian. Why is this important to this tale? By genetics, he is tough. He ran a marathon with appendicitis. He climbs really big mountains for fun. When Sam pierced his finger with a fork, and that fork dangled from that finger, he removed it without flinching. So when he looked at me on Christmas morning and said he was taking me to the ER, I knew I was pretty darn sick. Turns out my temperature was 103.6 and my lungs sounded "raucous". No pneumonia, thankfully. But it took five hours, IV antibiotics and fluids, before they'd send me home to 3 days of bed rest and at least 5 days of general rest. Lots of meds. Lots of Gogo's soup. Lots of hot tea and honey. Lots of sleep. No voice but my coughing is sure noisy. In six days we all leave for two weeks in Paris, so send all the healing thoughts you can my way please!