Last spring, I came down with the flu. I was sneezing, had breathing problems, and my eyes were dry. I thought it was a specially bad time for my allergies since flowers were beginning to grow. I took a couple of pills and laid down to clear my headache. An hour later, I woke up. I ended up shivering and, thinking the temperatures had dropped some. I just turned up the thermostat a bit. That didn’t help. I called my husband and told him how cold it was and he promised to be up soon to check on everything. When he came in from the garage, he whistled. He saw me setting up and sat on the bed furniture. The furnace was running well plus it was almost eighty throughout the house. I was bundled up by using blankets. I argued that it couldn’t be that warm. I was freezing. He fiddled while using thermostat. He went to the basement and We could hear him tapping the pipes that produced the heat ducts. The furnace turned off and on maybe once or twice. He came back up and said there was nothing wrong with heating unit. I was so warm now that I had thrown the covers off and was perspiring. He felt my head and groaned. I was sick. My temperature was a hundred three. I felt bad to set him through the trouble. He said he previously cleaned the filters, and checked each of the gauges. Our HVAC system is running well. He kissed my forehead and said he would see me when I felt better. I pulled the covers up around me.