Some of you who know me well will recognize the title of this post as a favorite line from my favorite “Andy Griffith Show” episode. Unfortunately, that’s how I’ve felt the past two days.
Monday night, after shooting part of two stories, I got the bug. Something didn’t feel right sometime around 2:30am Tuesday. I woke up feverish and not so good in the stomach. The station promoted a story from me for Tuesday at 6 that hadn’t been shot yet. I went in, stumbled through the story and got back to bed around 4. Then I slept. At 8 my wife called and I went back to sleep until she called again at 7 this morning. I went back to sleep until around 10.
The Fred Phelps people were protesting a soldier funeral in Clarksville and I really wanted to be there. The station thought it a good idea to send me with a photographer for this one. It was snowing. Very cold and very wet. We managed to grab plenty of interviews and video and I got ready for a 6pm live shot.
Funny, as I stood there ready to go live it dawned on me that it was my first television live shot in nearly 2 years.
The package ran tonight at 10 and Albuqerque called to get it for their late news too. I’ll probably do more on the Phelps’ beliefs tomorrow.
My kids have been sick this week too but they bounced back quicker than their old man. I didn’t eat a bite of food yesterday and only late tonight did I feel hungry. I’ve got some energy back and hopefully I worked my way through it for the rest of the week.
It stinks being sick. It stinks worse when you’re sick and away from home.