Living in fear

Ned has a stomach virus. He started getting sick early last night, just as our party began, and he's gotten worse ever since. He's been on a strict regimen of saltine crackers and Gatorade today. I'm living in fear--with the SFA symposium next week, I can't afford to get sick. We've declared it "sleep in your own bed week," and we don't communicate unless Ned talks to me with his hand (or shirt or blanket) over his mouth. Here's hoping we both make it through the week...