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Too Much Ick

So I haven�t updated since August. Oops. Let�s see if I can recall what has kept me away from all of you.

It started with puking on my hand in Dallas. By the next morning, my sinuses were in full revolt. My head was muddled with snot and aches and my throat scratchy with post-nasal drip. Tired and unaware, I stumbled through my morning meetings sipping on a bottle of water and eating a couple of breath mints. Stupid. By 11:30, I was dressed in scrubs standing in an operating room (no patients present), listening to a presentation. Or trying to listen I should say. I was floating a bit, hungry I think and thirsty for sure. I was trying not to sniffle or to touch anything or to breathe too much as I was afraid of infecting the room with whatever it was that had come over me. All was fine and dandy until we started in on the rest of the tour, and I felt my face drain of color. I couldn�t focus on what was being said as my mind was fully focused on keeping my body upright. I kept thinking that this isn�t working, and finally, found the ability to speak and asked one of my tour guides to point me in the direction of the nearest restroom. She obliged, talking to me and asking questions all the way there. I think I mumbled something of a coherent response � I�m really not sure. When we finally reached the single occupant restroom, I thanked my lucky stars, closed the door, started fumbling with the tie on my scrub pants and then sunk to the floor. Ugh. Sweaty coldness. Spotty vision. Ugh.

I didn�t pass out, I didn�t puke, I didn�t get the drawstring on my pants undone. I just sat on the floor breathing. When I�d figured out how to breathe again without thinking �inhale, exhale� I turned my attention back to my pants. I finally overcame the knot, did my business and then stared at my pale face in the mirror while I washed my hands dabbed the sweat off the back of my neck with a dry towel. I can do this, I thought to myself. Reluctantly, I returned to the tour and all was well. I�d avoided passing out in front of everyone, so that was nice. It was the last meeting of the day, so I was thankful to get back in the rental car and eat a couple of cashews on the way to the airport.

The flight home was uneventful, and by the time I reached my front door in Kansas City, I felt like I might collapse. I crawled into the living room and nudged Ryan off the couch. He was home, ill with the same crap that had commandeered my body. Thursday morning, I sat straight up in bed at 8:30 am. I started hacking and coughing and sputtering snot out my nose. I called in sick.

On Friday, I made my way into the office for a few hours, but then went home around 2:00 p.m. exhausted and worn out and my chest pissed at me for being upright while coughing. I had some reason for dragging myself into the office, though I can�t quite recall what it was.

Saturday was pure hell. I should�ve been lying on the couch with the sole intention of consuming liquid and filling my brain with the latest on the horrible tragedy in the Gulf Coast. Instead, when Ryan and I tried to go to the pharmacy to pickup a high-powered prescription snot-killer, we discovered that his car battery was dead. Rather than simply working to replace the battery, we got it in our overly drugged heads that we should work to replace the car. The day was spent at car dealerships. I was careful to keep my illness to myself by not shaking peoples� hands and not touching anything in the car except with one particularly obnoxious car salesperson. He irked me with a lame excuse why one car cost more than another despite it having fewer options than the other car. I wiped my nose and then seconds later shook his hand as we parted ways. Take that!

We didn�t buy a car, but I did acquire quite the headache and my cough lead to the development of a raspy voice normally achieved only by years of smoking menthol cigarettes and drinking gimlets. That night, rather than curl up on the couch, we went to dinner at a tapas restaurant. At one point, the group was trying to decide whether to order wine, individual drinks or a pitcher of sangria, and I chimed in with �let�s get a pitcher of sangria!� Ryan snapped his head toward me and said, �you sounded just like smoker party chick! Scary!�

On Sunday, we laid around doing nothing. It was heaven. At the end of the day, we went to Paco and Jane�s to be sure and spread our disease to others over a lovely dinner. I�m sure they were appreciative.

Ryan woke up Monday morning feeling a bit better, which was good because his crazy ass had to drive to Salina where he got in a Jeep Wrangler with his dad and started a long drive to Washington State. More on that in a minute. I spent the day watching television which included a long stint of hurricane coverage. I will be figuring out a way I can directly help out those affected by this. My heart goes out to all of them.

Tuesday, I was back at work in the morning. My snot river had been reduced to a stream and my cough was less phlegmmy. That afternoon, I boarded a flight to LA and the next day, I hopped a flight to Seattle.

Friday found me free of my meetings in both cities and wandering along a beach on a small island about 2 hours away from Seattle. I had met Ryan and his parents out there for a weekend vacation. Neither Ryan nor I had fully recovered from the ick, and on top of that, I felt disconnected, angry that I wasn�t anywhere in which I could productively help the people of the Gulf Coast region. We have donated money, but I desperately want to donate time as well. Of course, here I am, on another week long business trip and I still feel my hands are tied as far as donating time to the efforts. I�ve talked with Taerna, and I am hoping to follow her lead in helping in the best way I can.

By the time I�d reached the island, my spleen was freaking pissed off � or at least I think it was my spleen anyhow. Something in my abdomen on the left side had flared up and was uncomfortably rubbing against my ribcage on occasion. Even more fun than that were the sporadic shooting pains that coursed through my abdomen. Oh the joy of it all! Because I would get winded doing the simplest of things such as making my bed, I had decided to take the slow and easy route through the weekend. This meant I would sit out of the kayaking and the more strenuous hikes.

I did accompany Ryan and his dad to the boat dock where they launched their kayaks into the water. I had brought a book along with me, and once they were out of sight, I turned to walk back towards the house while reading my book in the dappled light of the giant pine trees. It was a lovely walk, and I stopped to sit on a bench for awhile while I caught my breath. Stupid spleen. After a few minutes, I resumed my walk along the paved but very quiet street. There hadn�t been any cars in the 45 minutes or so I�d been alone, and I only saw one other person. The only sounds were the birds in the trees and the occasional snapping of twigs from deer that were walking through the forests. I was finally relaxing. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed movement up ahead of me as I turned around a bend, and I looked up to see two foxes sitting in the middle of the road, not 50 feet ahead of me.

I was walking slowly, and I didn�t think to stop until I realized that I had no worldly idea whether or not foxes were dangerous. They were pretty enough, and not large � bigger than a cat but smaller than a medium sized dog. They were sitting in the middle of the road, one scratching himself and the other staring off into the trees. They saw my movement, looked me over and then went back to doing whatever it was they�d been doing. As I got closer, they looked at me again. One got up and trotted to the side of the road, and the other stayed put. At this point, I was racking my brain for sayings about foxes trying to figure out whether or not I was putting myself in danger by walking towards them. �Crazy like a fox, foxy lady, Fox and the Hound�� I didn�t think they were dangerous � a bit crafty maybe, but not dangerous. And what about the whole crazy thing � what did that mean??? Crazy as in they think they are J. Edgar Hoover or crazy as in they could snap at any second and tear the arm off an innocent young woman walking down a path? Why in the hell was that fox just sitting there in the road when he knew perfectly well that I would be within an arms length of him in just a few seconds? Why? Why!!!!

As I took the few remaining steps in my comfort zone, the fox stood up, rolled his eyes at me and slowly sauntered just off the road as if to say, �Oh that�s right � I�m an animal. I�m supposed to be afraid of you. Rar.�

So now it is Monday. I just got home yesterday, and I�m already on another flight today. I will be on planes five times in five days when all is said and done. We are starting our descent, and despite my high powered snot killers and a nice round of decongestant, I can feel my sinuses swelling and my ears are starting to pop. I must get well. There�s work to be done.

6:58 p.m. - September 12, 2005

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