Sick sucks

Apparently I harbored a stowaway from Central America . . . today the Virus came back to haunt me. It could be something else: I definitely had the opportunity to pick something up at either international airport I wandered for hours, or at the many gas stations I visited on my failed road trip the other day, or at the fleabag motel I stayed in that night. Or it could be the same little organism lying latent in my body, waiting for the first time I decided to test my nutrition/endurance. Smart virus, definitely picked the right host. Suddenly, spending Sunday driving for 16 hours, eating next to nothing b/c of anxiety over sitting on my ass all day in the car, then exercising until 2 am in the motel seems like it might not have been the optimal course of action. I guess everyone has a list of things that "seemed like a good idea at the time," right?

I called J. (a pre-med major) to ask for some stuff from the pharmacy, and of course he was there almost immediately. To paint the scene he walked into, I had my tent, sleeping roll, and other stuff spread out in the living room, I wanted to clean it before packing it away in the closet, and random pieces of field clothes were also strewn around. He came in and saw me curled up in the corner of the room next to that refugee camp-esque mess, with my skeletal mongrel curled up nest to me. His first comment?

"This sure as hell better count for something on my Doctors Without Borders internship application."

J., J., when not I'm trying not to spew my innards all over my freshly washed tent I truly do appreciate your wit, I promise. For now, though, gimme the drugs before I sic my zombie dog on your disgustingly healthy ass.

I am aware that this post is one big whine, sorry. Believe me, I am no pansy. Extensive chunks of my life so far have revolved around making myself feel like shit pretty much all the time, I can handle that, but this just sucks at a whole different level. Sorry for the vent. I think the worst of it passed a few hours ago, I am able to sit up, as long as I don't move my head too fast, which is a marked improvment over the last time I came down with whatever it is and could do nothing but spasm and moan for days. At least this time when I am sick I have a roof, clean drinking water, a bed, and J. armed with all the pills he could carry out of CVS without a backhoe. Once again, I am reminded of how much we take for granted, because a huge portion of the world has none of that, ever.

Sorry for any lack of coherency, people with fevers over 103 should probably not be allowed to blog unsupervised, but I sent J. home and G. is pretty damn smart but has not quite acheived literacy. Yet.