It came on us slowly.  We'd already been in Bolivia for over a week, had a bout of diarrhoea, but not really sick from it, we just needed to be near a toilet at all times. 

We'd eaten in the local market but avoided tap water, and everything had been fine.  Our stomachs were solid. 

Even the altitude hadn't been too much of a problem.  We panted walking up a flight of stairs, the odd headache now and then, but otherwise we were happy to walk up steep hills to get a good vantage point of the city, visit museums and generally wander the streets. 

I noticed Edith failing first.  She was getting crotchety, tired and generally looked a bit white and fatigued.  Then she went off her food (Edith never shies away from food!).  

Looking back on it all, we had been at a play park.  Simply touching the handle of a slide or the chains on the swing would be enough to pick up the snot of another child.  

We returned to our room after lunch and feeling a bit foggy and tired myself, I took Edith to bed and we promptly fell asleep.  

And it began. 

I remember getting woken up by Lorne asking if I wanted to go to dinner and I groggily replied "No", I felt like I couldn't even move, let alone eat anything.  Edith was still asleep next to me looking awful so I told Lorne to take Axel and we would stay and sleep some more. 

It wasn't an unconscious sleep.  I would wake periodically because I was too cold and my whole body was shaking from it, or I would wake because it was too hot and my skin was scratching and screaming for the sheet to be removed from me.  Sometimes it was Edith waking me because she needed some water and she asked with a horse and quietly pitiful voice.  

The veins in my head felt like they were expanding and contracting under my skin, ready to explode, while my throat ached like a river drying up and succumbing to the hot sun.

I didn't know how long I could survive like this and if I was feeling this bad, then how was Edith feeling and coping?  She seemed to be able to sleep better than I did, but when she did wake, I attempted to get some medicine down her.  The first couple of times resulted in her throwing it all up, on the bathroom floor, on herself.  She was so upset and just wanted to sleep, which I suppose was really the best remedy.  

After the third morning of laying in bed alternating between sweating and freezing, I noticed Edith perking up slightly.  She said she was hungry.  This gave me hope that we were turning a corner and Lorne's talk of getting us to a hospital soon dried up. 

Neither of us ate much for about three days. Edith was tempted by ice cream, but after a couple of licks, she was done.  I tried various different types of flavours: savoury, sweet, spicy, bland, but nothing satisfied me and I just stopped trying.  

However little by little and day by day our appetites returned but the fogginess and headaches were still there.  I suppose the altitude coupled with even a slight blockage of sinuses was enough to push our bodies over the edge.  But the sore throats were gone, the aching muscles and prickly skin had calmed, all I could think of was getting out of the city and somewhere a bit lower in the world.  But we weren't going lower, we were going higher.  To Potosi, the highest town in the world.  Well we had to think on about that......

Axel and Lorne seemed to avoid the worst of it.  They did receive the peripherals.  Snotty noses, slight headaches, but they didn't get the full blown influenza Edith and I had.  

They had a few days of private Spanish lessons as Edith and I couldn't go, which really spurred them on.  Lorne was suddenly happy to talk to the taxi drivers, waitresses and shop keepers.  His Spanish really ramped itself up so I was proud of his accomplishments.  Axel went to class without any issues and came out of them happy so I was proud of his development too.

Those few days of illness have left a legacy with me, a cough which is worse at night when I'm trying to sleep.  Edith has a bit of a runny nose still, but otherwise we seem to be back to full health. 

And if I haven't lost any weight from this ordeal then that's it, I give up and accept my additional fat will accompany me to the grave.  I haven't had an alcoholic drink in three weeks, my body is actually repulsed by it, so I lament the destruction of that relationship.  But maybe this is my Phoenix from the flames and from this illness I will be resurrected as healthier and better. 

We'll see......!