A Work Place Flower Virgin

I learnt a new life lesson today: no matter how sick you are, how much you shiver, how much snot your blowing out of your nose, despite all the hours you are sleeping during the day, never, ever, ever forget this: always wear a bra!

I'm on my second week of being sick with a really good influensa that I just can't shake. I don't need to go into details. Needless to say, after going to the doctor, having some bloodwork done, receiving new 'governmental sick leave papers' and delivering them to my boss, I went home and slept for another 5 and a half hours.

So I wake up, take some more Ibprofine and eat some of the dinner that my better half (especially at this point in time) and my kids ate for dinner. My better half, who has been up since just before 4 AM this morning asks if he can sleep on the couch for a bit, before putting the kids to bed.

The kids are happily addicted to Play Station. I agree to this.

So I'm flipping through the channels on the tv, wrapped in a wool blanket with hot tea. It's a sad state when one has over 100 + channels, and nothing is of interest. Not even Jamie Oliver is very entertaining tonight.

And the doorbell rings. 'Jeez-Louise!' I think to myself. Who in the name of Paradise and Lawn Clippings is ringing my door now? I don't even have any loose change if it should be someone collecting for the Cancer Foundation, Askøy Football Association, or some local high-school band arrangement.

There's a man out there, super blond hair and high cheek bones. Suddenly I'm aware that I'm wearing wrinkly pajama bottoms that have been used for a couple of days now, and a ragged army green sweater that I used to wear in Canada over 10 years ago. My hair is not yet brushed since I've woken up a few hours ago.

-- Is this number #%? he asks.
-- Yes, I say.
-- Are you Nicole? he asks.
-- Yes, I say.
-- These are for you, he says. And hands me this:

I'm kind of stunned as I take this fantastic boquet into the kitchen. I understand that this is because I'm not feel great, but I can't figure out who would send them to me. After 10 years of living in this country, I still can count the number of true friends I have on one hand. Such is what happens when you move often and change jobs frequently. The one possibility I can think of is a friend who is now up in the Song region for a couple of weeks and we haven't been sending SMS's like we normally do. She knows I'm not well but.....

So I open the card: Dear Nicole! Wishing you a good recovery. Greetings from both the small and big at your workplace.

Now I'm stunned for a second time. In all my work experience, I've never had anyone of my work places send me flowers when I've been ill. Even when I fell 10 meters in the mountains of Canada, had to be rescued by helicopter and could not work for 3 months because of some rehabilitation that needed to take place, I did not receive flowers from my work place. The only question was if I should be docked one day's pay because my parents did not contact my work place immediately to let them know of the incident. (Silly them - they were worried if I would be a vegitable or not).

I understand it's the virus at work here, and I know that I'm not the first to receive flowers from my work place. I'm fairly confident there's an unsaid rule that those who are sick longer than a week will be sent flowers from money that's put away every month for such occasions. Even so, I'm getting pretty emotional about it. I'm not crying, but I've had to take a couple of deep breaths now and then.

Wow - someone sent me flowers. I think I'm starting to feel a bit better already.

And in the future I will always wear a bra. Maybe a pair of jeans as well.