I've learned two very important things in this new year. The first is this: It's okay to ask for help if you need it, especially from those that love you. And, the second: Your health is really the most important thing, without it, it doesn't matter what else you have. With each new year, I usually say "I can't believe it's (insert new year here)." But, this time I mean it. And, that's because I didn't get to experience a true New Years Eve celebration. (Or atleast, the first time since 1989--the first New Years I have an actual memory of). Though, I had plans to ring in the New Year with friends, my intestines had other plans for me. Instead of celebrating, I spent my new year, sleeping on the floor of my bathroom, fighting off the most evil stomach virus I have ever encountered. Allow me to set the stage.
Last week, with my time off, I spent many a night going out, drinking and staying up late. As a teacher, I rarely get the opportunity to stay out late and booze on a weeknight. I took full advantage of this during my vacation. But, by Friday night my body started to feel off. And, I just didn't feel like myself. I thought, okay. I'm not twenty-one anymore. Maybe I just can't hang the way I used to. But, by the time I got home on Friday night I knew it was much more serious than that. I had a one hundred and two fever, fit with chills, sweats, and painful body aches. By six in the morning--this moved to my stomach. And, I became very sick to my stomach. I will spare you the disgusting details. (And yes, they are disgusting). But, I could not keep anything down. Anything. Out of either exit. The nausea/pooping occurred every ten minutes for two days straight. There was no waste left to leave my body! In the last two days, I had only eaten an apple, three crackers, one bowl of chicken noodle soup and one slice of toast. In two days!!!! And, keep in mind--my daily breakfast is usually 4-5 bowls of Frosted flakes!
By Sunday night, I was so weak I could hardly move. Even watching television required too much energy. I had never felt this sick or miserable in my almost twenty-eight years. I was completely dehydrated, despite the massive amounts of water and Gatorade that I had consumed. I called my doctor. He told me I needed to go to the emergency room, and get hydrated via an IV. I was scared.
First, I didn't think I could make it to the hospital without vomiting, or even worse--crapping my pants. Second, I looked uglier than I did in 1999--I was afraid to be seen in public looking like this! Third, I didn't know if I had the physical strength to get dressed, lock up my apartment, and get in a cab. Somehow, (and I'll never quite know how), I managed to get myself to the hospital. Upon arrival, I was immediately put into a wheelchair. I was so weak at this point, I could hardly stand. Yes, this was a low moment. And, not just physically, but emotionally too. I felt very lonely being at the hospital myself. Yes, I should have asked a friend to come with me, but I didn't want to be a bother. (Lesson Learned: Be a bother). But, I could not get the thought out of my head. If I weren't single, I would not have been at that hospital alone. In the end, I wasn't alone--my mom met me from New Jersey, and once the IV filled with fluids, anti nausea medicine and pain killers kicked in, I felt much better.
This morning, I woke up feeling energized and more like myself than I have in days. I felt happy. I didn't have to walk around taking tiny old lady steps, I could dance and sing around my apartment, naked. I was me again. And, for the first time since this year started, when I wished someone a happy New Year, I meant it--it really feels happy.
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