Sick Day

For only the third time in my adult working life, I have called in sick. The first occasion was when I was in Yosemite, and a friend was in the hospital two hours away (in lovely Fresno) with a compound fracture and I thought I might not get a chance to see him before he went back to Virginia. The second occasion was when I got the flu in March 2008 and was so achy that I actually cried--more than once!--because it hurt my butt to sit on it.

This third time is kind of lame. I have a cold.

I get sick around this time every year. When I look back on my life, I can clearly remember the circumstances of getting sick every October, because 1) I rarely get sick, and 2) it is seriously an annual occurrence almost to the day. During my sophomore year of college, getting sick coincided with Greek Week and I stupidly figured that a bunch of alcohol in my bloodstream would kill all the germs (wrong), so I kept going to parties all week until finally I fell asleep. At the bar. At 8:00 p.m. on a Saturday night. A trip to the doctor's office showed that a cold had evolved in to a sinus infection AND a DOUBLE ear infection--awesome! (Dumb.) During my senior year of high school, getting sick coincided with the ADPi 5k and it rained and I was so pissed that I had to be sick, standing in the rain, holding a sign that directed people along the route.

This year, being sick coincided with a dinner party that I'd been planning for over a month. Yesterday I woke up with what was obviously going to be A Bad Cold. And last night I had friends over to eat lasagna and swap good books and drink wine and talk about life. After all this planning and anticipation, I wasn't about to let a (bad) cold get in the way! Oh no! So I ate lasagna and gave out a few books and definitely drank too much wine (because clearly I am kind of dumb) and talked about life.

And then I woke up this morning sounding a lot like Barry White.

Ordinarily, I wouldn't let A Bad Cold stop me from going to school. The guilt! The shame! The falling-behind-ness! But this morning when I got up, I took my temperature, and I had a fever. And the cardinal rule for this kind of situation, according to my mother, is You Can't Stay Home From School Unless You Have A Fever. And I did! I had a fever! Which doesn't normally happen when I get colds!

This is as good a time as any to point out that I have a resting body temperature of 97.7--almost a full degree below the "norm" of 98.6. The implications of this are HUGE. For example, if my temperature is 99, that's like other people having a fever of 100! Which is a fever NO DOUBT! When I think of all the times over the years when I was sick and my mom would take my temperature and it would be 98.6 and she wouldn't let me stay home because it was "normal" when in fact it was NOT--I was instead running a low-grade fever--I really could just cry. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH DAYTIME TV I WAS ROBBED OF!??!

So. I had a fever. And I called my mom, to 1) ask her what I should do, which was really 2) getting her to justify that I was okay in staying home from school tomorrow, because 3) she's got the strictest standards for that kind of stuff. My mom said what I thought she would--that I should stay home from school. That I had a fever! That meant I could stay home! And even if I DIDN'T have a fever--I should still stay home! To rest up! Because being a teacher is hard work!

Now, here's the rub: having your mom tell you that you're sick and can stay home from school just isn't the same at 25 as it was at 12. At 12, even though you feel like garbage and you're snotting everywhere and your throat has the surface quality of a belt sander--you don't have to go to school! You can stay home and watch Nick Jr. and Sally Jesse Raphael and sleep in your mom's waterbed and eat all the ice cream and then blame it on your brother later! But at 25, you just feel guilty. I waited until 4:00 to call my cooperating teachers to let them know I won't be coming in (after taking my temperature and making sure that I still had The Necessary Fever) because I wanted to see if napping would make a difference. Both teachers were totally understanding--hey, people get sick, I can cover you, no problemo--but I still feel like a schmuck, like I ought to suck it up and go in. Except that I know that if I do, 1) I might still be contagious and give people my sick! 2) it will take me all of this week and most of the next to really "get better, and 3) I will be totally miserable and ineffective. The idea of teaching my 6th period tomorrow makes me want to die.

I know my husband is totally going to give me an eye roll later for staying home (earlier, he was all, "you're an adult and you can do what you want, but I really think you shouldn't stay home tomorrow") but I think it is the best idea. So I'll be here, camped out with my lotion-y tissues and my lo-cal orange juice, and I'll write some lesson plans and all will be okay in the world.

In other news--as of today, my husband and I have been together for 3 years. He says it doesn't count as an anniversary anymore, no not really, because we're married now and the dating anniversary is now a moot point. I say, can it. Because I made a pumpkin-and-chocolate-chip cake that I'm about to cover in cream cheese frosting, and if there's one thing that cream cheese frosting screams, it's THANKS FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME FOR OVER 1000 DAYS!