I think 40 is trying to tell me something. It all started Friday – right before the BIG night. That little tickle in the throat that could result from a dry elevation with no humidifier or a precursor to other things. Not something you can do anything about and certainly not something that was going to come between me and my 40th birthday celebration. I downed a coffee to recharge and forgot all about it.
The limo pulled up promptly at 7 p.m. and we dashed out the door, our daughter’s screams echoing in our ears at being left with a sitter. After a quick photo moment, we pulled from the curb to pick up the rest of the crew. For a few minutes, the guilt of my child’s angst threatened to put a damper on the night but then the Cristal started flowing and I came to my senses – after all, it is only like the 5th time in 1.5 years we have left her at night with a sitter. I know, I know, we need to get out more.
The night was perfect and I give a big thanks to my wonderful husband for that. It had all of the perfect ingredients: great friends (we kept it small: three couples who are so close to us that I provide them as my emergency contacts; for those of you who don’t have kids, it’s tough to explain), quality champagne (Dom was added by our friends to the mix and for one night, all of us forgot we were in a recession), excellent cuisine at one of Denver’s best restaurants (including photo opps with the Anaheim Ducks – we were in a debate as to whether these very fit young men were in town on business or prepping for a bachelor party; of course, I had to find out – enjoying a healthy dinner sans alcohol before taking on the Colorado Avalanche the next day; btw, the Ducks won), dancing to techno (great reminder: I never want to be “out there” again) as well as some other unique entertainment. I would go into details but as the saying goes, “What happens in downtown Denver during a 40th birthday celebration, stays in downtown Denver.” We actually stayed out past the witching hour rolling into bed in time to get enough sleep before sunrise. I stayed true to my golden rule while drinking: downing plenty of water and two Advil at bedtime.
The room spinning should have been my first clue. The second, awaking prior to sunrise by no prompt other than my body screaming at me for inhaling probably a bottle of champagne. The third, well let’s just say that my stomach is still reminding me not to touch alcohol for long while. My husband, dear that he is, woke up quite refreshed and spent the morning occupying my little angel. By mid-day, I was actually on the re-bound and it was only then that the tickle became somewhat noticeable again. It was all downhill from there.
My actual birthday was spent in bed with a horrible migraine and a sore throat that wouldn’t quit. I was taken back to the days of adolescence prior to the tonsillectomy when I could have sworn someone had implanted knives throughout my entire mouth cavity. Aren’t tonsillectomies supposed to eliminate sore throats for the rest of your natural life? Ha!
The pain worsened and I finally drug myself to the Doc. I had an eeking suspicion it could be strep. It had been running rampant at my little lady’s preschool but luckily she had not contracted it. Or had she? Her teacher informed me she could be a carrier. A carrier? Huh? Sure enough, strep it was. However, the good news was the meds! They almost eliminated every trace of the illness within 24 hours. I almost am thanking the Lord that it was strep. Otherwise, I would probably still be squirting the Chloraseptic, popping Advil and Tylenol and lying in bed. I actually cooked for my family tonight.
Ok, ok, the story got away from the real question at hand. What is 40 trying to tell me? It came in with a bang and passed in a fog- hmmm... well, I am deducting:
• Enjoy life!; however, apply the wisdom obtained during the 20s and 30s to moderate just how much…ahem…
• The glass half full theory is the way to go. Strep sucks but having to live a whole day hearing a plethora of jokes about being 40 trumps it
• Eckhart Tolle is right…embrace the Now as we never know what tomorrow brings
• Suck it up, buttercup – you’re 40, baby, it’s time to let the good times roll!!
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