Our daughter Shea has mononucleosis.  She was diagnosed last week and the pediatrician (who is simply the best pediatrician we've ever had, period) told her she needed to rest and take it easy.

She has been, but all week long she's been complaining that she doesn't feel ill and that she's sure she doesn't have mono.  It's been a trying week for me, having to keep her relatively inactive.

Today, I was getting ready to take the dogs for a walk and Shea asked if she could come with me.  I was only taking them a couple of blocks, so I agreed and handed her Henry the weiner dawg's leash.

She started off fine, but by the time we got two thirds around our route she said that her legs felt like they were going to give way.  Right as we rounded the corner of our street, she said that she had spaghetti legs like she gets at the end of the mile long run at school. When we got back to our yard, she sat down heavily on the park bench in the corner and said that she was beat.

"So now do you believe that you're sick?" I asked her.

"I guess so" she said. 

At least now she's felt the effects of exerting herself. 

At least now she KNOWS she's ill!