I reported the other day that the man had come down with the flu. The boy and I came down with symptoms and all of us continue to be plagued by them. I called to let the boy’s school know he wouldn’t be there, and the secretary said, “you didn’t eat at Chipotle, did you?”
Um. Well, yes. Friday night. By Sunday we were all getting sick. But our Chipotle isn’t closed and supposedly wasn’t supposed to have been touched by the e-coli that closed stores in Portland and Washington. Since our symptoms fit an e-coli timeline and the list of possible symptoms (the man has ALL the possible symptoms), we decided to go to the doctor. Well, they went. I’ve been feeling better (but suddenly am not right at the moment) and so the upshot is it’s possible and they had stool samples. We will maybe know more on Friday, maybe not. Also, they didn’t properly do the sample (apparently they were supposed to take samples from three different stools, and they didn’t. Goes to show I should have been in there for the instructions). I hope it’s good enough.
Once I got home, I decided to call county health to let them know, and to notify Chipotle. Both responded quickly and hopefully if there’s a problem at this restaurant, it will get shut down and cleaned before others get sick. At this point, my husband who has not had a sick day in 3.5 years at this job, and probably another two or so years at least in the previous job, has now taken two days off and will likely take off tomorrow. He’s miserable. The boy is also miserable and I’m terrified it will trigger a flare-up of his other illness, which it very well could.
In the meantime, I started to feel better for a day, and now am feeling worse. Do. Not. Like.