Hall-Uhhh-Ween

I‘m so excited for a brand new Monday, a new week of opportunity to catch up after the duo of conferences and raging illness that chased them like an angry banshee. I’m much better now, but it’s been a while since I felt that beat.

I normally think of sick as involving lots of liquids in plenty of places, but this was a different and rather dry sort of agony. I felt as though someone took my bones and replaced them with pain while an army of tiny spiders with fire for blood laid their eggs in the meat of my throat.

I went to dinner with my friend Jimmy after the conference on Wednesday. Jimmy was my brother growing up, but I now see him about as often as I buy a new car. Jimmy owns a production company and works in Hollywood. I have two children and live in Long Beach. Our worlds orbit in affection, but rarely intersect. Wednesday was awesome; we were in the same city at the same time and a dinner date was as easy as a phone call.

We sat at our table until I was sure I had waited out the traffic, a good call considering the same trip that had taken me two hours and ten minutes the day before took me thirty-two minutes that night. I got home, went to bed smiling, and woke up the next day feeling as though I’d fallen from the tree of torment and been slapped in the face by every branch on the way down.

And that’s the way it was for the next two days. I started feeling slightly better on Saturday morning, though not enough to go forward with my earlier plans for Halloween. My friend Roberto called to ask when we’d be over and I said we’d be sending a triangle of family instead of a square. After fifteen minutes or so of feeling like I was telling him the Great Pumpkin didn’t exist, and him promising me I could lie on the couch and do nothing while he made me tea for my throat that was sure to make me feel like I was being kissed by angels, I agreed to come over as long as I didn’t take a turn for the worse.

By the time of departure I felt no better or worse and didn’t want to disappoint anyone, so I climbed into the car as passenger rather than driver and we were off to Halloween. Fortunately, I didn’t have to dress up. Going along with the Star Wars kick my kids have been on, we all went as a favorite character. Cindy and Mia were both different versions of Leia. Max was an awesome little Darth, with a helmet about nine times to big for his tiny face. He swam in it like Rick Morannis as Dark Helmet in Spaceballs. I went as an all purpose Jedi, my costume consisting of the most comfortable bottoms in my dresser below a well worn chocolate colored cotton tee, all wrapped in a bathrobe.

I was bummed to miss out on the trick-or-treating. I’ve always loved it, never really grown out of it, and each year feel like an old fogey for thinking the holiday just isn’t the same as it used to be. But it was awesome to lie on the couch listening to friends and family having fun. I was grateful for the warmth of the house and happy I didn’t decide to stay home and end up missing it.

After the trick-or-treating ended, I fell into what were two of the longest hours of my life. My full sick came back to stare me in the eyes, demanding to know who I thought I was that I could leave the house just because it was Halloween. My skin started to burn over my icy cold insides as my bones rattled beneath the blanket. All four of my limbs felt like they were being pulled apart by wild bucking horses and you could have easily filled a soup bowl by ringing out my tee-shirt.

Every minute felt like ten until time finally fell back into its normal rhythm. Some sudden victory was apparently won inside the depths of my body and a fraction of my strength returned.

Though my throat is still raw and it does feel as though planes are trying to land on a runway between my ears, I am otherwise fine. I feel reasonably strong and eager for the week.

Halloween was as awesome as it could have been considering and I’m already excited for next year!

Writer Dad

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