Yesterday morning I got an email invitation to a little dinner party that was to happen last night. Something like fifteen people were invited, so it was to be small but not tiny. I was the first to respond, saying that it was going to be my first day out of bed after the flu, and I’d have to see how I was feeling a little later. Within the hour, three quarters of the list had bowed out, each with a description of which stage of the flu he or she was in. Even the host chimed in, saying he was just over it himself, and promising medicinal cocktails to whoever managed to drag themselves out. In the end I think three people showed up. I was not one of them.
My qi gong teacher took this rampaging flu as an opportunity to say that this is why we should all be bowing to each other when we meet, instead of shaking hands or, god forbid, hugging. But she sniffled her way through the practice and finally admitted that she, too, had spent the last few days curled up in bed, so there went her hygienic authority.
And you, poor travelers, how are all of you holding up this flu season? There’s nothing quite like the exhaustion of time zone shifting, plus being removed from the comforts and routines of home, combined with a nice long incubation in the stale air of an airplane cabin, to suck all the power from your immune system just when you need it most, no? Let me tell you, though, if you land here with the flu, stuck in a stupid hotel room, all alone, please don’t be afraid to ask us for a little help. We understand how hard it is to be sick away from home and we’ll support you however we can.