the infected.

i am sick.

helplessly, disgustingly sick.

i couldn't stand it - my favorite month ruined by first the freakishly cold weather and then the unpleasant crumbling of my immune system. i tried to ignore it. i went to the apple orchard on saturday despite a sleepless friday night and dry throat (i probably infected about 41 people with this unsafe approach). but saturday night was relentless. i felt like a mentally institutionalized patient - all shakes and shivers and cold sweat and confusion as the hours ticked by. sunday was not going to happen. i texted in sick (welcome to 2009, but i'd rather not talk to anyone in my naseous state) and had to cancel a homemade meal (made by me, no less) with the parents and future in-laws, and had to leave most of my church duties up to my willing fiance. i felt helpless. pointless.

the first 15ish hours were the worst. i thought i might just die right then and there. my sweat evaporated as soon as it came into contact with my boiling hot skin. i couldn't move. i couldn't think. i couldn't eat. i couldn't even throw up. it was lame. without david keeping a constant vigil, i probably would have keeled over sometime in those first miserable hours of infection.

i will pause here to point out that my mother is a nurse. this usually give people a sigh of relief. and yet, it has never been the blessing people assume it should be. "well good, at least your mom is a nurse." i hear it all the time. but she, maybe because of her extensive medical knowledge, avoids the sick more than every other person in the medical profession combined. and more than any other infected person, she has always managed to avoid her sick children the most. "i don't want to catch that!" she'd declare as she'd throw a piece of toast at me from behind a big bottle of Lysol disinfectant spray.

after the initial nastiness wore off, it turned into a slow uphill climb. healing by degrees, i came out of my cave of a room and consoled myself with the crappiest tv known to man (my antonio, tool academy, my sweet 16, some life documentary on sandra bullock) and occasional sips of water. i haven't watched tv seriously for over a year, and i learned a couple things in all my channel surfing: 1. channels play the same 4-6 shows on rotation, hour after hour, day after day. 2. everyone is incredibly freaked out about the flu. there were dozens of commercials - one even had a doctor rapping about how to wash your hands - advising on how critical it is to avoid the flu this winter. and there i lay, one of the infected.

i'd noticed this trend in the last couple days. in my quarantined state, i'd been blessed with only a couple interactions with humankind (other than david, and i'm not sure what to categorize him as anyway). when matt came up to check the internet, he did so with his shirt over his mouth. well played, but there was no joking later when he tentatively offered me a spoon for ice cream, almost dropping it into my reaching hand, like i was a begging leper. later, talking to alicia briefly in the hallway, i think i could visibly see her backing away from me as she asked how i was doing. in her defense, i could very well have smelled horrible. i hadn't bathed for a couple days.

but what ever happened to the slight thrill of getting sick? was it just elementary school infatuation? it was always a little walk on the wild side to share a cup, a game of russian roulette. maybe you'll get to stay home. maybe you'll get a free break. and you always bounce back stronger than before, with immunity built up! who doesn't want that?

apparently, no one wants that this winter. and after this last miserable bout, i guess i can't blame them. staying home sick only results in more work down the road for us big kids. and it rots our brains out with mindless television.