After wavering and waffling about omicron, I kept to my plan and went to Chicago. All was well until I caught a stomach flu. The worst was over in about half a day -- after all of the food and most of the drink had been jettisoned, I lay in David and Lauren's spare bedroom, sleeping and reading and watching old sitcoms.
I didn't have enough energy to change my rental car and air arrangements, so I left the next day as planned. My guts were still in a tangle and I would not have been any good in an emergency. But I slept a lot and there were no bathroom disasters.
Ugh.
My appetite is almost back to normal, and I'm glad to be home, mostly because I've gotten used to the relatively warm California winter.
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