The Mystery Illness returns.

I have been sick now for about four days. Four. In the past 50 hours I have eaten 2 crackers and 3 spoonfuls of cous-cous. Doing good. How bout that eating disorder recovery! Yeah! Anyway. If I could just stop throwing up, life would be good. I went to the Health Center. I was there for about an hour, yet they provided me with no health. They gave me some lovely drugs (Tigan, Zantac) and a bottle of Gatorade to boot. My lucky day. Oh yeah, and I'm not pregnant, which is always a plus, though that was fairly obvious to me, but I do whatever makes the good doctor happy, so whatever.

I got a phone call today from the hospice volunteer coordinator. I was afraid it was the dreaded, "She died" phone call, but in fact, it was a phone call in which they were wondering if I had died. Nah. Just been busy. Then away. Then sick, then busy, then sick again. So I've been slightly neglecting my patient. I feel awful about that, but at least I know she's still alive and I can make ammends.

In any case. I'm hoping I feel better pretty soon. I can't handle this shit. I feel like I'm going to pass out. Matter o' fact, I'm going to go to bed now. I am going to attempt to actually go to class tomorrow. Eep.