Before this I was a member of the group who intended to get their flu shot but never got around to it. Now I’m a member of the group who spend days, weeks, even months lying around on beds and couches, coughing in raging fits, wrapped up in blankets against chills and then peeling them off we’re suddenly too warm, and enduring aching joints while we wonder how much longer before this “runs its course.”

Today marks Day 10 for me. It began subtly with a barely perceptible tinge of soreness in the back of my throat. But within an hour the chills came on and by evening I was huddled in a sweater and blanket, cursing myself for not getting that shot.

The foolish part is that just days before, my husband and I stood in a store where we could have received the shot right then and there. But we looked at our watches, figured we just didn’t have the time, and promised each other we’d get it next week. This is now next week and I have plenty of time — to be flat out sick. I’d kick myself, but I’m too tired.

I’ve had lots of time to think about lots of things. My sore throat prompts reminiscences about childhood remedies. The strangest was an “alcohol rag.” Mom soaked a washcloth in alcohol, laid it against my heated throat, then wrapped one of her dishcloths around my neck and secured it with a big diaper pin. I can’t imagine what medicinal power it had, but the coolness of the alcohol against my fevered neck felt so good. Mom also believed in lots of blankets. If she felt cold, we were covered in another blanket. Whether we needed it or not.

I’ve also thought about four things I hate about being sick.

First, who wants to feel like this? After a rough round of coughing I sputtered, “I hate being sick!” and then I laughed, because no one wants to feel like this. No one wants aching joints, ribs sore from coughing, feeling too hot and then too cold, being worn out all the time, and the pain of an angry throat.

Second, I hate having to ask for everything. My husband is taking good care of me. He’s not the world’s most preemptive nurse, but he’s definitely the most willing. That counts for a lot. But I still feel like a wimpy bother.

Third, I hate being foggy headed and fatigued. All the time. From doing nothing. I’m surprised I can run enough words together to make a coherent sentence.

Fourth, I hate how being sick makes me selfish. I forget about others’ problems and illnesses in the miasmas of my own blurred brain. I’m not interested in much of anything going on beyond my own little world of aching, coughing, and fatigue. It’s a miserable place to be, and I just want to be done with it. (See, it’s that kind of whining I despise.)

So, I think about inventions that would make this illness more tolerable: chocolate-flavored cough drops (enough with the lemon and eucalyptus already!), a pillow that conforms to a couch and a bed, a blanket that somehow keeps me both hot and cold, and store-bought chicken noodle soup that tastes homemade. They all say they do. They all don’t. (Thank heaven for kind neighbors!)

The flu is nothing to ignore. It’s a serious illness. A neighbor battling the flu was hauled off in an ambulance on oxygen. He’s doing better now, but the flu has been rattling around in his household since mid-December.

A recent CDC post estimates nearly 20 million people have endured the flu this season, 230,000 were hospitalized, and 9,300 died from it. Utah statistics are hard to pin down, but news stories say Utah’s hospitalization rates for flu are at the highest this decade.

So don’t ignore that. Listen to someone who regrets a bad decision. Choose to dedicate a few minutes to get your flu shot now.

Or you may be forced to dedicate a few miserable weeks to suffer through it later.