Flu Bug Bugging Me

I sit here trying
To extricate
Myself from the hold
The latest flu bug
Has on my system.
I has me pleading
Why me? Why did I
Have to catch
This particular
Contagious microbe?
Who do I have
To blame?
I think it’s a part
Of my American ethic
To keep working
No matter how
Sick I might be,
Or how many others
I might contaminate
With my presence.
All I know is that
I hate being sick.
I can’t stand lying
There in bed
Trying to wait it out,
Not being able to read
Or do anything else of value.
I am not the type
Who readily pops pills
At the slightest ailment,
But this thing has me
Has me ready to take
Almost anything
To relieve the symptoms.
I used to get sick a lot,
But not so much anymore.
I remember how my kids
Used to bring home
Every new contagion
Circulating around at school
An offload it on us
The moment they go home.
When I feel like this,
The only thing
That really seems to
Do any good
Is a long, long hot shower
Followed by
Whatever fitful sleep
I can get.
This is the part I detest
About being human.