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Photo: Ryan on his camera phone, Memorial Bluff

I can't remember what year it was, but it was the one when Alina came to stay with my parents (Moldovan exchange student) and we spent (Christmas?) at my grandparents' house--this was when my grandfather was still alive--I don't know what happened, but I was sick. As in keep-nothing-down-for-days. I was to return to our corner of the Midwest with my mother, sister, and Alina, but was too sick to travel, and thus, my father, who was already going to stay an extra few days, took me home instead. It was miserable--lots of sweaty moaning, though I was pretty much left alone in the big bed, which was nice. Usually the kids were relegated to the smaller twins scattered throughout the house.

I'm that way again now, however many years later. Last night I went to bed, shivering, thinking it was the open window and the rain making me so violently cold. But when I piled on the comforter, changed into a sweatshirt and wool socks, I realized something was up. And at five in the morning, my body expelled dinner and I found my temperature at 102. Sick, officially.

And I cannot tell you how grateful I am that it came on the weekend, because I cannot miss any more school, and we're so close to being done. There's no way I can easily make it from the first floor to the second of our house in this condition, let alone make it to campus, and I have Monday off, so I am hoping, hoping, hoping to be better by Tuesday morning.

There's something about being unwell that makes a person feel desperate for being looked after. Ryan is usually pretty good at that, and he stopped at the grocery store (I was craving watermelon, hoping it had a better chance--though who was I kidding when plain water didn't even work?) and he brought home five kinds of soup, Gatorade, Sprite--all the remedies of childhood. My stomach is cross and is having none of it, and I spend a lot of time moaning and sweating/shivering/sweating, but I've been lucky so far and escaped colds and whatnot all winter. Perhaps one big wallop is how it will go this year.