I've never done drugs, but I imagine its trip might be something like this, unstoppable, repeating, and, ultimately, inescapable. I got up at 6:30 am to send the Good Morning Keyano email, a daily bulletin of news and announcements, then woke up the boys. By 7:30 am I was back under the sheets, beginning another twisted circuitous sleep time storyline. Up for a half hour here and a half hour there, I pretty much spent the entire day shivering and sweating with the blankets tucked up to my chin.
Do you think he's gonna die, I'm certain my sons were thinking, puzzled and completely out-of-sorts with their normally nimble Dad down for the count.
I finally woke up and felt I needed to eat, a nice bowl of sugary cereal. That was a good sign and the first glimpse of hope off on the foggy horizon. A few hours later I was free of the shivers and the constant layer of sweat on my brow. The fever had broken, the worst was over and it was time to check my Twitter feed.