I know, normal people do not go into work when they're sick. But I work with little ankle biters and in truth it's more work to not work than work. (Got it?) So I heaved my arse into the truck and gagged my way to work. Once there, I popped into the boss's office to head's up them. Meaning if they see me bolting down the hallway please make their way to my classroom and ensure my charges are still living and intact.
By the time recess rolled around I carefully walked myself back to the office and informed them I was not going to make the day. (Last day before a holiday too!) Sitting in my classroom, listening to chaos slowly invading my world, I waited and watched the clock for my replacement to arrive. With 30 minutes left, I gingerly pulled the garbage can between my legs. Ever so carefully without moving any muscles - terrified to speak to the bee bopping hive of activity my lack of attention was creating - I sat. I sat so still because I knew if I moved even an eyelash the wrong way bad thing were going to happen very, very quickly. Taking deep breathes, and using iron control and self talk, I willed the gorge threatening to jump out of my throat to go back to it's home in my tummy.
I knew if the bad thing happened I'd start crying. And I was pretty sure once the bad thing started to happen it wasn't going to stop any time soon. And I still needed to drive myself 30 minutes home. I also knew my little darling would not deal well with their rock (me) falling apart. I had already laid a contingency plan telling the kids that if I quickly left or bad things happened my daily helper need to bust a move for help. It would have been great if I could have opened my mouth, without bad things happening, to put that plan in place.
As it were, for the first time ever in my career I had to leave work early. As it were, I made it home by the skin of my teeth before very nasty things happened.
Hopefully this passes (heh) fast, and I'll still make Mayerthorpe Saturday. It's looking like a faint hope at this point in time.