Great news! I have returned to the land of the living.
(Well, if you consider sitting in a t-shirt amidst a pile of tissues and empty Gatorade bottles the land of the living.)
I have been "under-the-weather" for about two weeks with a cold that Paul picked up. But then Wednesday morning I awoke in a mild state of death. I should mention, that I rarely get sick. I can count on one hand the number of days of school or work that I have missed for actually being sick. I should also mention, that this was my first time being sick without a mom or a dad who could stay home from work to care for me. I have a husband, but he had to go to work to care for other sick people. It's apparently one of those "the cobbler's wife goes unshod" situations.
So anyway.
After a sleepless (and sweaty night) I woke up at 5:00am with a fever of 103.3 and an aching throat, but there wasn't much we could do about it. Paul kissed my forehead and I mumbled something incoherent and came up with a plan to get myself to the convenience store down the street when I "felt better" for some Gatorade.
Fastforward to 9:00am, I still feel terrible but there is no way around this trip to the store.
I "get dressed" and take the elevator down to the main lobby of our apartment building.
And this is where it all comes crumbling down.
Literally.
Everything started to fade to black as the elevator doors opened. I have never blacked out or fainted before so I didn't know what to do (other than panic, obviously) so I walked into the middle of the lobby and started pathetically calling out "help!" Although my throat hurt so bad that "help!" was coming out as sort of a whisper. I was trying to call 911, but my damn iPhone has no buttons so I didn't know where the buttons were (plus, in retrospect, I would have needed to log in).
I really couldn't see anything. Paul keeps asking if things were blurry. But there WERE NO THINGS. Just darkness.
What felt like ages later, but was probably 15 seconds, the sweet maintenance lady came into the lobby. I can only imagine what the scenario looked like. I have no memories after this point and the next thing I know, I'm sitting on the couch with my vision restored.
I explained to the lady that Paul was at work and I was sick and trying to go get Gatorade. Then I gave her $10 and she went and picked some up for me. I could have kissed that lady, but then she would be sick too, so that would be a lame reward. (I am seriously so grateful for her though. I need to write up a thank you card and bake some cookies stat.)
So after that, Wednesday continued to suck. Paul determined that with the crazy fever and inability to swallow, I had gotten myself severely dehydrated which resulted in the black out. He diagnosed me with strep throat based on the crazy amount of puss in the back of my mouth.* (Good Times.)
My fever broke last night (BTW – is there anything so simultaneously awesome and disgusting as waking up in a pool of your own sweat?) and since then, things have been a bit better. I have started antibiotics and Paul made me chug (drinking game style) two 32oz Gatorades.
And just like that, I'm on the mend. And feeling sort of obsessed with the power of fluids.
*Really because I have four out of four of the centor criteria.
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enJOY it 
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