Of course, being sick can sometimes have its upsides: who didn't secretly enjoy getting to skip school and watch Price Is Right reruns with a bowl of jello in hand?
Or, have Peter Falk read you a story that has everything one could want. As you wish!
But not when it's anything worse than the common cold, or when one is over the age of say, 13. After that, for me, being sick didn't mean getting to skip, it means missing out. This week was no different. I missed a ceilidh in Upper Austria, something I had been looking forward to as a highlight of the semester, and a ski trip with one of my schools, which would probably have been my second and last time skiing this year.
One thing sickness couldn't keep me from: texting and aim chat on my phone. Although it was sometimes a stretch to coerce my fuzzy mind to form words from letters, it was my only contact to life (read: George) beyond napping and watching pirated movies.
Being sick abroad does come with one other perk: the opportunity to learn about interesting new healthcare protocols (although at the time I could not have cared less who walked through that door and what he/she said, as long as it meant relief from my pain). This sickness allowed me my first-ever house call from the kindly old local doc, complete with feathery gray hair, crystal blue eyes, and a cute chestnut brown leather doctor's kit. He was very sweet and even shook my hand at the beginning and end of the check-up, lending sick monster me two moments in which to feel human again.
My fairy godmother in it all was my housemate, Marlies, who called Dr. Sweet'olguy and also went to get my meds for me. Only one of my prescriptions was exotic: the codeine drops for my cough, which had to be shaken from an unwieldy little brown apothecary's bottle and tasted faintly like Novocain.
But enough complaining and pity-wallowing--I'm feeling much better today and that means I'm back to the Interwebs again. Now to get back to work....
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