Sick, with a Jewish mother

It's completely surreal, but I woke up feeling... normal. And what a wonderful feeling that is. So... having gotten through it, here's what I recommend for surviving the death throes of the flu:

LOTS and LOTS of drugs.

Tons and tons of Ibuprofen (for the massive headaches and to lower the fever), some codeine (for the coughing), a bunch of pseudoephedrine (can't hurt, and it may even help you walk almost as quickly as your spry 86-year-old neighbor, Miriam, who is presently capable of moving much more quickly than you are), and your Jewish mother's chicken soup. 

Of course, you should be aware that some of these might be accompanied by side effects.

The soup, for instance, is accompanied by a Jewish mother. This means you may start to hear things. You may hear things like: the phone ringing every SINGLE time you go to lie down. You may hear things like "Are you drinking enough? Make sure you drink enough!" or "Do you want me to come visit? I'll come visit!" or "What can I do for you? What can I bring you?".

I'd say it's everyone's decision as to whether they want to risk the side effects of the medication, but in the case of the Jewish mother, you don't really have a choice at all.

(All in good fun. I love and appreciate my Jewish mother and I wouldn't trade her for any one else in the world. And I know this post will make her laugh when I get up the courage to show it to her... It made my father laugh.)