the lack of sleep, proper fluids, vegetables and the influx of stress has finally caught up to me. i’m sick.
i’m the speaking in tongues, hot and cold sweats, completely irrational, stomach holding kind of sick. and because it hit me like a ton of bricks at about 5pm yesterday I didn’t feel like or have the opportunity to go get some medicine so I asked my roommates if they had any. My choices were either Tylenol, Excedrin or Robitussin. I didn’t have a migraine so Excedrin was out. And to me, Tylenol might as well be a sugar pill because it’s never done me any good. So there it was…the bottle of Robitussin staring at me with its menacing cherry red glare.
Now I hate cough syrup. I have ever since I was a tiny child. I could take shots, scrapes, and swallow horse pills like a champ but every time my mom busted out that brown, red bottle of ick I would be crying and whining in a corner.
And there I was last night at a crossroads with one of my lifelong enemies…debating whether the taste of that semi-coagulated, pseudo cherry concoction would be worth taking to rid myself of fever and delirium. I whined. I moped. I sat in a corner reasoning with myself not to be a baby. And then I mustered up the courage and poured myself a shot of Robitussin.
Then I relived a childhood nightmare.
I feel better now. But I swear after nearly a decade and a half I cannot get over the trauma of that sickly sweet smell and the consistency. Never again.
I know, I’m a baby and a drama queen. But I’m sick, that must count for something right?