I'm hesitant to say that I've escaped the wrath of Jon's stomach flu on the off chance that I could jinx myself, but it's been over 48 hours since I drove him to the emergency room to be pumped full of fluids and the only problem I have is a bad case of paranoia. I've been so afraid of getting sick that I'm analyzing every food before I eat it and wondering how bad it will taste if it doesn't stay down, making me sick to my stomach every time. With every gurgle in my belly I'm almost convinced that it's my turn to run to the bathroom, but nothing has happened so far. And Jon was feeling much, much better as he headed off to work for the first time this morning. We changed the bedding last night and I slept in our bed for the first time since Monday night and it was absolutely wonderful. The couch was giving me such a crick in the neck.
Like I said, I'm hesitant to say that I got off scot-free, but it is looking that way. Apparently the avoidance tactic really does work.
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