So, I was sick for a week. That’s a long time to be sick in the summer. At least I didn’t have to go to work, it was like a really lousy vacation. Here’s the day by day summary. Don’t worry, I’m keeping it light on the biological elements.
Monday: For dinner I have soba noodles with a breaded pork cutlet. I remember thinking: “Hmm, interesting texture this pork has. Must be Japanese.” I also have a small popcorn while I watch Anchorman. But the popcorn couldn’t have made me sick, because it was free. I think my last thoughts before falling asleep were, "Is something wrong with my stomach?"
Tuesday: Wake up and I’m ill. I’m scheduled to go into work at 1, and I spend the morning going “Ugh, my stomach.” I throw up before going to work. This will prove to be the only time I throw up all week. I go into work, wrap up an interrogatory, and call it a day after an hour and a half. I’m too excited to not be at work to take a nap when I get home. A few hours later the PR department comes by with some popsicles and conversation. What a great PR department. I don’t sleep at night.
Wednesday: I go into work for about two minutes before they kick me out. Come home and lie in bed, not sleeping, wondering what’s wrong with me. I start to wonder if I have an ulcer. I drink so much of the pink stuff. At night I think I’m getting better. So I eat a bunch of pizza. Because I really know how to take care of myself.
Thursday: I wake up. I’m definitely not better. I’m so not better that I go to the Doctor. It is the dumbest visit to a Doctor ever. They didn’t even take Blue Cross and all they can gather is that I’m sick. I eat a bunch of McDonalds. I watch DVDs all afternoon at the Angel of Christopher Street’s. That sentence should’ve said: “I begin my descent into DVD hell.” The PR department brings by more popsicles. I like the green ones. And the red ones. What a great PR department. In the evening Laura Young shows up, a little while later Patricia and Genevieve show up. We descend into an “I Love the 90’s” hell. Then Karisa, SJU, and Archie come over and we chat on the roof. You know how in Mrs. Doubtfire there’s that part where Robin Williams has to be himself and Mrs. Doubtfire at the same time at the restaurant? That’s what I tried to do, entertaining my roof friends and room friends at the same time. I realize I’ve left my popsicles at Karisa’s, go pick them up, and come home. I’m feverish all night. I don’t go to Volume, like I had been planning all week.
Friday: I’m pretty sure I will die. But I don’t. Instead, I watch too many DVDs. It makes me feel dirty. And they weren’t even very dirty DVDs. I don’t go to Palmyra like I’d been planning all week, or North Six, as I had been planning to if I didn’t go to Palmyra. I’m certain I have an ulcer.
Saturday: I really feel I should go back to the Doctor’s. But I don’t. Instead, I also don’t go to the Siren festival. Would you believe I watch more DVD’s? And I probably eat something that isn’t good for the ill. I think Saturday is the day I bought my Fall CD for $3.99 (or however much I said it was in that other post) amazed by the price, I buy the !!! record because I am sick and not thinking straight. Fortunately, it turns out I like it. I get a whole bunch of books from the library, because sometimes, when you’re sick, you feel the best thing to do is really apply yourself. I go home, listen to music, read, and worry about my ulcer.
Sunday: I just wake up sick of being sick and determined not to be sick. So I go to church. And then I come home. And then I think I’ll go to Lexia’s for dinner, but on my way I realize I’m way too sick to walk to the East Village. So I go to Bryant’s. Then I buy a salad at Wendy’s. You see, I’m learning to take care of myself. Also, I bought a cheeseburger. I go to bed resolved not to be sick anymore.
Monday: I wake up at 4 AM feeling great. I do all sorts of stuff around the room, and then I go to work in Jersey. There I realize I only felt comparatively well and shouldn’t have gone to work. I get a call from the NYU health center, they tell me my problem was salmonella. I feel pretty bad that I didn’t have an ulcer and wonder if I’ll ever grow up. I start telling everyone at work about the salmonella diagnosis, and they all have stories about the times they had food poisoning and were sick for three weeks and had to go to the Mayo Clinic and stuff like that. I go home. Nap. Decide not to be sick anymore and really apply myself to it. The next day I wake up pretty much all better and put in ¾ of an honest day’s work. Sure, I should’ve written "Tuesday: I wake up . . ." but I actually have a separate post to make about Tuesday later on.
So that’s my sick week. Sorry it wasn’t such a good summary, but I was sick, what do you expect?