The surest way to recover from sickness is to work on your blackmail.

Big V succumbed to the plague which meant I could finally take advantage of that whole blackmail plan I've been busy devising in my spare time.

Me:  What the hell are you wearing?

V:  I had to go ref that tournament today ... I puked twice in the locker room between games.

Me: What the hell are you wearing?

V:  My head feels like it's going to explode; my body feels like someone ran over it with a truck.

Me: What the hell are you wearing?

V:  I keep getting light headed and dizzy; I think I'm dying.

Me: What the hell are you wearing?

V:  I'm so cold. I can't believe how cold I am.

Me: What the hell are you wearing?

V:  But I knew I had to ref and I didn't have any long sleeved white shirts, so I grabbed this one from your closet - I was so cold - and I asked if I could wear it while I reffed the games and they let me.

Me: Wait... so you wore my maternity turtleneck over your official ref uniform all day long while you reffed a basketball tournament in front of hundreds of people?

V:  You wouldn't believe how cold I was.

Me:  I love you.