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My luck with illness has never been good. If there’s someone sick around me, I’m going to be the first person to pick it up. So, when I saw the warning come out on the hospital portal informing us of the norovirus outbreak in the area, I was understandably worried.

I’d come down with this particularly evil infection once before. It’s basically what most people would experience as food poisoning, 24-48 hours of pure misery, diarrhea, vomiting, and nausea. My husband and I picked this up about two years ago from sharing a plate of hummus at a brewpub in a resort town and spent the rest of the night trading turns in the bathroom.

I’d been running errands most of the day, so when I started feeling ill, it was nearly impossible to determine where I’d picked it up from. The virus is normally transmitted from douchebags not washing their hands and touching things, like food or glassware. Then we consume said food or put our mouths on the glassware and become infected.

I was feeling crappy already, and this just made things all that much worse. I was concerned for the baby, but thankfully, he’s okay, turning around in my now nauseated belly much as he would normally. I did have to miss a day of work, which I could ill afford, as I’m trying to save as much of my vacation time for maternity leave. However, this was not something I could tough out and go to work with. So, I spent another day on the couch, trying to rest and not worry about the little stuff.