kung_fu_monkey dropped into a healing coma yesterday: around midday, he came out of the shower looking awful and feeling worse, then collapsed on the couch and slept feverishly for several hours. By dinnertime, he was conscious again, and today he's completely fine. saintpookie, of course, just doesn't get sick. Bastards, the both of them.
But Greg made some wonderful vegetable beef soup last night, and Jerry is very solicitous of my well-being, and they're both all patient while I'm feeling wretched, so I suppose I can't really complain.