It started out as just a dull headache early Sunday evening. I didn't think much of it until, as the evening wore on, the aching started to spread ... first to my neck and shoulders, then down my arms and to my back and legs.

Then the chills started, and then the from-the-inside-out sweats.

By 10 p.m., I had a 103-degree fever. I tossed and turned all night, and was having really weird dreams. Apparently, according to my husband, I was talking in my sleep about nonsensical things. He said I was hallucinating, but I don't remember it.

By the time the alarm went off at 6:45 Monday morning, I knew there was no way I was hauling myself out of bed to go to work. I still had a fever (although it was down to the 100-degree range), every joint in my body hurt, my legs felt like spaghetti and my head felt like it was detached from my body.

After seeing my husband and son off, I called my office to let them know they wouldn't be seeing me that day, and I crawled back under the covers.

I laid there, listening to the silence. Then I started wishing my mom was there to take care of me.

I was the queen of ear infections when I was little. I was sick with them all the time, so I always had fevers and didn't feel good.

When I would stay home from school, my mom would mix orange juice and 7-Up for me, make sure I had all my favorite books and stuffed animals, and eventually start feeding me toast and soda crackers. She would let me lay on the living room couch, and I got to watch whatever I wanted (this was before the days of the remote control, so she would check every so often to make sure I didn't need for her to change the channel).

Then she would give me the "purple medicine," and I would drift off to sleep.

Just having her there made me feel better.

Yesterday when I was sick, the only "people" there to take care of me were my dogs. They were great company ... Bruiser gets under the covers and curls around my feet and Bella snuggles in the crook of my arm ... but neither of them could mix a 7-Up and orange juice.

I guess that's one of the things we take for granted when we're young ... that our parents have a knack for fixing our ailments and knowing just what we need.

Looking back, I sure do miss that now that I'm a grown-up.