By Ron Moore
Stafford County truck driver and columnist
Special to the Tribune
You may have noticed I didn’t have an article in last week’s Tri-County Tribune. I was on my deathbed—or at least that’s what it felt like. As it turned out, the doctor said I had one of the 24 types of influenza currently going around.
Friday afternoon, I picked up a load of lumber in Rapid City, SD. By the time I reached Valentine, NE, it was getting dark. I decided to park for the night and indulge in some fine dining and entertainment.
I stopped at McDonald’s, but at their prices, they’re far too “fine” for me. Who do they think they are? Apparently, they think they’re the only McDonald’s for hundreds of miles—and honestly, they might be. It’s the only one I pass on my 519-mile route from Hays, KS, to Rapid City.
Still, I figured I’d try my luck with some entertainment. I bought two crossword scratch tickets. Unfortunately, that fun was short-lived when I ended up tossing both tickets in the trash. After that, I settled in to watch some TV before going to sleep.
Sometime early in the morning, I woke up with chills—bone-shaking, paint-peeling chills. I covered up with everything I had. By Saturday morning, I tried to sit up, and this is where I would have gone viral if there had been a camera on me.
It felt like my feet were four feet higher than my head. I struggled to sit up, using every ounce of strength I had and grabbing onto the closet door for support. I finally managed to sit up, only for my legs to give out beneath me, sending me crashing back onto the bed.
I tried again but still had no energy. It wasn’t until around noon that I could manage to get out of bed. I sat there for hours, barely functioning. Eventually, I tried to drive, but after two hours, I was completely exhausted.
By Sunday at noon, I set off for Stafford. I made it just as the sun was setting. Once home, I was freezing again, curled up under an electric blanket and shivering. My wife was watching Supermarket Sweep. As the fourth episode played, the virus was finally expelled from me.
Even a bad virus knows good TV. For all I know, it left and went to someone else’s house in search of better programming.
Like a tornado, this virus left an aftermath. I’m still recovering and need to get another box of tissues.
