SICK

Time came to an absolute standstill on Thursday by 2:52pm.  I was at school, watching the Activity Room like I do every day from 2:20-3.  I hate watching the Activity Room.  It's a bright, colorful room full of wonderful playthings--that the kids aren't allowed to play with.  It's sick.  There are 2 play houses, 1 Little Tykes slide, Legos and other building blocks, and a TV.  The only thing the kids are allowed to do is sit quietly on the mat and watch the TV.  Most of them come in and head straight for the slide, having had just spent their entire day at Korean school.  In my professional opinion, they deserve to play on the pitifully small slide for a while before having to study English for several hours.  However, I am supposed to coerce them to sit down nicely.  It's like fighting nature...and I've never been good at that.  It's only a matter of time before I go insane and disassemble the slide myself and throw it into the supply room next to the vice principal.  I've worked at Toys R Us, I know how to take those things apart.

Thursday was a bit different, however.  That morning, I drank my regular breakfast smoothie and went downstairs to walk to school.  I discovered that it was raining, so I texted Rebecca to see if she'd like to share a cab.  She replied "yes," so I went back upstairs to wait until 9, since taking a cab would save us a 20 minute walk.  The second I sat back down I started feeling nauseous.

I continued to feel nauseous through the faculty meeting.  It wasn't strong yet, but I knew something wasn't right.  And this time, it was nothing I ate.  There had been nothing but 100% apple juice, bananas, and strawberries in my smoothie.

It got worse as the morning progressed.  I taught a music class, then a science one, then another music.  I almost threw up during all three of them.  The nausea started hitting me in waves.  Lunch time came.  Usually I sit down and scarf down my lunch in 15 minutes flat.  That day, I looked at the clock--it was 12:30 already and I had barely taken a bite.  It was official--I was sick.

After lunch on Thursdays I always have the Nemo class back-to-back for Science and activity time until 2:20, when I go straight to the Activity Room before my much-needed hour and a half break.  I have no idea how I made it through that.  By then, I was freezing cold, shivering, and feeling dizzy.  Everything hurt.  I stayed as distracted as I could, though.  I was determined to make it through the day.  There are no substitute teachers and anyways, I didn't know how to go to the doctor!

By the time I got to the Activity Room I wasn't sure I was going to live.  I put on a video like I always do, but instead of moving to the other side of the room, I stayed put.  I couldn't move.  I couldn't shout at the kids.  I let them play all over that cursed slide.  Good.  Let 'em play.  I didn't care--I was dying.

I decided that after the Activity Room I was going to ask someone how to go to the doctor.  There was no way I was going to make it until 7:20pm.  It was either walk out of there on my own two feet at 3, or leave on a stretcher in about another hour.  Plus, I am bigger than most men here.  The paramedics would come up the four stories and faint when they saw what they would have to carry downstairs.  I wasn't going to let that happen.

Any time now it would be 3...it must be close to 3 by now, it's been forever!  I looked at my iPod.  It was 2:52.  I was feeling more miserable than I ever remember feeling in my entire life.  The 1st grade girl next to me pulled my hair as a joke.  It hurt.  Normally I would have laughed and said, "Ouch!" but not today.  Instead, tears welled up in my eyes.  I pushed them back.  It must be almost time now.  I looked back at my iPod.  It was still 2:52.

Hours passed.  I looked back down at my clock.  2:55.  "You've got to be kidding!" I thought to myself.

By three o'clock I was really fighting back the tears.  I turned off the TV, sent the kids to class, and went into the break room.  I sat down next to Krista.  "I need to go to the doctor," I said, holding back the tears.  I've never felt so pitiful.

"Oh no--talk to Julia, she'll help you!" she told me.  I staggered over to the vice principal.

"Julia, I'm really, really sick," I said.  I was shaking.  "I need to go to the doctor, but I don't know how!  Where do I go?"  She decided to send Elly, one of the Korean supervising teachers, to take me there.

We took the elevator downstairs and walked about 2 blocks up the street in supposedly radioactive rain to the hospital.  The whole way there, Elly asked me about my symptoms so that she could explain them to the doctor.  When we got there, I handed her my insurance booklet and she filled out the forms for me.  I think I only had to wait about 15 minutes before they called my name, although it seemed like much longer.  They took my temperature; I had a fever.  They took my blood pressure; it was a little high.  The doctor had me lie down on the table and he felt my tummy.  Diagnosis:  Gastroenteritis.  He prescribed me a BUNCH of pills and gave me a doctor's note for work.  I paid $20 for the visit, including the medicine, which we picked up in the same building, downstairs.

Elly took my note to school for me and I crossed the street and hopped in a cab.  "Dobong Chan-e-gu," I said to the driver.

"Dobong chanegu?" he repeated.

"Nay," I said.  He drove me home.

I think I was home by 4 o'clock.  The old man in the office spotted me and flagged me down before I could hop onto the elevator.  He had a package for me from my mommy!!!  Hurray!!!  It had more dye-free ibuprofen and TONS of Larabars.  It couldn't have arrived at a better time.  I took the package, went upstairs, got into my pajamas, put on my polar fleece socks and my fuzzy hoodie, and crawled under the blanket, shivering.  By then, shooting pains were going up my legs and back.  I realized I couldn't even move to get into the package.  I lied there in agony for what seemed like hours.  I looked up at my rainbow wall clock above the stove. It was 4:15.  "Seriously???" I thought.

Every time I got up to go to the bathroom, I would lie back down and my ankles and muscles would ache as though I suddenly weighed 400 pounds and my body wasn't used to the extra weight.  I finally mustered up the energy to slice open the big white box sitting on my floor.  Penzey's spices!!!  Peanut butter!!!  I found the ibuprofen and popped two in my mouth and hid back under the covers.

At some point I picked up my MacBook and sent Kim a desperate plea to bring me some white rice and bananas...anything I could put in my stomach and hopefully keep there.  Just after 6, she knocked on my door.  I peeled my 700-pound body from the bed and slumped towards the door, opening it.

"I'm dying," I said, chuckling a bit.  I really did feel awful.  What was this nuclear-punch of a virus I had anyways?  She had brought me plain yogurt and white rice.  I thanked her and before lying back down, I threw some rice and water into my rice maker and ate a yogurt.  It was heavenly.  I drank some juice and popped a couple more ibuprofen--apparently, my body hadn't noticed when I took them the first time.

Curled up in the fetal position under my pink bedspread, I realized I had made the right decision coming home early.  It was only 6:00...not even close to the time I would be getting off work.  I noticed a ringing in my ears and decided to put on a movie to distract me from it.  At some point, the rice finished cooking itself and I ate a small bowl full.  I decided not to take any of the pills the doctor had given me.  I didn't know what they were, and I know better than to take a bunch of unidentified pills.  They could give me a reaction, and what were they anyways?  Antibiotics?  Anti-diarrheal?  No, it couldn't be natural.  None of that would help cure a virus.  Better to just let nature take its course...after all, that's how I roll.

The pills I was prescribed, divided into dosages

The next morning I woke up about 7am.  I no longer had a fever but my stomach still hurt and I felt incredibly weak.  I decided to call in to school.  It meant several teachers would lose their planning period, and someone was going to have to teach my 7 boys along with their own kids in the afternoon. It was not my favorite thing to do to my coworkers, but, I had to do it.  I lied in bed all day and slept a lot.  I ate the rest of the rice from the night before and some more yogurt and a peanut butter sandwich.  I even went to the store in the afternoon (right downstairs) and bought some bananas and bottled water.

Today is Saturday and obviously I am still sick...why else would I currently be in bed writing when I could be out exploring in this gorgeous Spring weather we're having?  I feel better, but every time I eat something my stomach starts to hurt again.  Thank goodness it's the weekend.  I don't want to have to call in ever again!  It's such a breakdown when it means inconveniencing your coworkers/friends!

And I was going to visit the open-only-at-night black market last night.  Instead, you got this.  I'd promise it to you next time--but I know better than to try and plan ahead!