wheat, chaff, what is difference?

It's hard sometimes to tell what malaise is from illness, and what is from the Curse of Eve descending with might at the same (utterly useless) time. (I'm pretty sure the wretched lower backache is not from cold/flu, at least.)

Though it's better than cramps on an airplane, which I have done and have no interest in repeating.

the late results

Fever's down to 99.3. The party has mostly moved into my sinuses and nose, though I'm still coughing occasionally, particularly when elibalin sends/posts (q.v.) silly YouTube links. Still feeling kinda headachy and sore and tired, which well duh, fever. (My usual temperature is slightly below 98.6, I should note.)

I remain disgusted by the watering-down of Big Fuckin' Q. It has no decongestant at all, and the antihistamine is not The Good Stuff. So I have broken my long allegiance, and instead have taken 2 Real Sudafed (acquired by dint of great effort from the ferocious guardians at CVS) and am washing it down with a Hot Scotch Toddy, Slightly Modified, which recipe I shall repeat here for your group benefit:

1.75 oz whisk(e)y (I had Jameson's handy, so not so very "Scotch")
2.5 oz boiling water
.5 oz lemon juice
.25 tsp orange bitters
1 tsp honey
scrap of blood orange peel studded with cloves (I watched the bartenders getting citrus peel twists, I studied them closely, but I seem to still be Doin It Rong)

Is very nice. Main differences are, you're supposed to use Scotch (duh), Angostura bitters, and lemon peel, but I like my version just fine thanks.

And so, to bed. I think I'll be fine by the time we leave; the major worry now is making sure Steve doesn't come down with it. Which is why I'm quarantining myself up here in the guest room with kitties, laptop, and periodic visits from dariodevil (who, though perhaps equally prone to catching whatever illness is going, states firmly that he has no reason to care if he does).