MY BLUE ROOM:
|by Meg R|
I knew I had it bad when, early Monday
morning, I was awakened by
uncontrollable chills. At first, I couldn’t believe that there was something wrong with me because I was feeling fine the whole weekend. And now this.
The chills blessedly stopped, but my ordeal apparently has just begun.
When I awoke the next time around, it was to the painful sensation in my joints and a terrible dead weight in my head. Nevertheless, I determinedly got up, had cold shower and got dressed for work. During this time though, the dizziness was beginning to take a hold of me.
Things took a turn for the worse at the office – my teeth practically chattered from the cold blast of the air conditioner, I couldn’t take a bite. And most of the time, I was walking around like a zombie trying to work. You think the sheer torture of it all would send me straight home to my bed; but believe it or not, I still managed to go to school later that night.
Perhaps it was the knowledge that school was my last stop for the day, but I finally lost whatever nitty gritty I had possessed in trying to fight down my illness. Our teacher was still lecturing, but it was all I could do not to moan with pain. The minute he finished, I excused myself from my groupmates – I need not have said more, because they took one look at my fatigue-ridden eyes and shooed me home.
Tuesday morning, I didn’t even bother getting up from bed. I had planned to sleep the whole day so that I’d be somewhat OK for my classes that night (what can I say? My pockets were still stinging from the tuition fees I had to pay for the second module). However, when I told my mom I planned on attending classes later that night, she all but screamed “Nababaliw ka na ba?” (Are you crazy?) Rather than risk facing her wrath especially when she's in a fussing mother hen’s mood, I wisely left it at that.
Wednesday morning I again got dressed for work – mom saw me alright, but she probably thought it best to let me have my way this time, on account of her “victory” the previous round. Anyway, she let me go with a firm reminder for me to take my medicines. I almost begged her not to let me go to work because I was still feeling very weak, but being the stubborn fool that I was, I gingerly took one, two steps ‘til I got to the office.
Everybody was shocked; I called in sick the other day and am I not supposed to have the flu for a whole week? they asked. Anyway my best friend advised me not to go to class that night because I still looked like hell, but did I listen to her? Of course not.
Thursday I was seized by coughing spasms that threatened to force my pharynx out of my – esophagus? Throat? Whatever – I'd forgotten my biology altogether. I had the blasted chills again because my vain nature managed to convince me that a jacket wouldn’t go well with my ‘Meg Ryan’ look (hehehe, it’s a joke) Anyway, I decided not to go to class later that night, and to take Friday off as well, to give my system the proper bed rest it so clamored for.
You think it couldn’t get any worse? Well, HI (hormonal imbalance) chose that opportune time to hit me. How’s that?
So there I was the whole weekend, sleeping the day away and trying vainly not to give in to bouts of depression – I got to page 23 of Sean Covey’s Seven Habits of Highly Effective Teens; page 3 of Neale Donald Walsh’s Friendship with God; page 93 of Jessica Zafra’s Book IV: The Twisted Menace; and page 202 of John Ribar’s Programming Primer.
My eyes hurt like hell after the rigorous reading exercises, but at least I managed to ward off the big D. I even made myself promise to try to follow Covey’s suggestion – that is, to try to wake up early for at least three consecutive days, and onwards ‘til it becomes a habit. My resolve crashed on the second day, but that’s a another story.
Meg R has finally recovered from the flu blues and is now back full-force in her bid as the original Meg Ryan of the Philippines. (There's another one who contends that she is the real Meg Ryan.)
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