1,000 Sheets

1,000 Sheets

Layered fresh and soft, on pedestal high,

I keep you dry and handy near to me.

You’re vigilant and ready when I pee.

Faithful, trusted, steady, morning til night.

You give yourself, unwind liberally.

I take and take (and take); you’re always there.

Did I forget how extraordinaire?

Now empty you be, all because of me.

I’ll rebound, pursue a new paper roll.

With it, I simply wish to wipe my ass.

For your twin, I go to the cubbyhole.

Half-squatting, I open the door – aghast!

It’s gone, no spare to ease my inner soul.

Perplexed in my self-indulgent morass.

3/34/2020 ~jlr

My 10 things for sick-at-home with flu symptoms:

1. Pain reliever/fever reducer  Shaving a degree or two off the fever, and any relief to the muscle aches is welcome.
2. Tissues. I choose sans lotion because I’m always trying to clean my glasses with them. It’s your call.
3. Saline nasal spray or Neti pot to keep nasal passages moist. I prefer the convenience of the spray bottle. I don’t have to get out of bed to use it; for the cost, I can throw it away when this is over. The Neti-pot also kind of scares me.
4. Minty lip balm. Right now, my lips are coated with Sky Organics Eucalyptus Mint. As ‘60s children, our parents smeared a glob of Vicks VapoRub ointment on us like a sick mustache. I’ll take the minty lip balm. You do you.
5. A vaporizer with Vicks Vapo Steam. I don’t have small children or big pets and live in a dry winter zone, so the warm mist one works for me. The one I bought was really the luck of the draw. There are also cool-mist vaporizers. Who knew? Faced with five options, I stood in the pharmacy aisle at Target doing “eeny meeny miny moe.” Warm mist won.
6. Rehydrating drinks. I like Gatorade G Zero in the 12 oz bottle. Warning – in your weakened
   state, it might be difficult to get the top off. Have someone in your house, a neighbor, friend, person at the store – anyone – loosen the caps. It’s a sad moment when a sick person, alone in a bed, struggles to get the top off a drink to quench fever-thirst, only to fail and give up, content to succumb … or have the thing explode over an already unwashed body. Just sayin’.
7. Thermometer. My doctor’s office rule of thumb is you are no longer contagious after being off fever-reducing medicine (see #1) and stay fever-free for 24 hours. There is a bit of a thermometer shortage now, but I needed this metric to know when I could return to work. That’s how I ended up with the Kinsa Smart Ear Thermometer. A bit pricey at $40, it was the only one left at the pharmacy. I wish this was a thing when my kids were babies. The app logs every reading and creates a timeline for each user. When I was clearly sporting a fever, I took a screenshot and messaged it to my boss. That was priceless.
8. New crayons and a coloring book that I will burn when this is over.
9. A large paper bag, with edges folded over, for used tissues, etc. The bigger the opening, the better. The last thing I want to do after I’m well is clean up a graveyard of diseased tissues.
10. Emergen C

Self-quarantined, for now, I’m taking my Tamiflu and, in a day, or two, expect to be back among the living.