The best part of getting sick

I think the best part of waking up is Folgers in your cup. And the best part of getting sick is getting better. You wake up and there isn't a thick layer of scales covering your eyes and you think to yourself, "is this too good to be true?" Then to make sure it's not, you stand up, bracing yourself for the train that is about to crash into your head. But praise the Lord you don't collapse on the floor. You're healed! Boo ya.

This past Sunday I went on a mountain bike ride with my friend Aaron up a small mountain near Granada. It wasn't SUPER strenuous but it was little over an hour of riding up a pretty steep grade [at least for non-psycho-bike-rider-types] and then another hour coming through the city, all in the middle of the day. [I think it was about 100 degrees F that day] While we were up there we did some fun stuff like riding on a little path about 3 feet wide with a huge, super steep hill just to the right. And there were these two bridges that were really scary too. They were only a few feet wide and about 4 feet off the ground with no handrails. I was too scared to ride the first one, but the second time I made myself do it and then yelled at Aaron for making me go up there.

This is Aaron.

But the ride itself is not the point of this blog...

When we got back to Aaron's house we drank some water, then some juice. Then we ate some yogurt and then I was about to explode. Aaron told me as he usually does after a ride or climb, "Keep drinking all day. Drink until your pee is as clear as water and then drink some more." So I thought, psh, Aaron you don't know what your talking about. I will be fine.

I got home and casually drank water throughout the day, maybe another 2 liters total and that night I went to bed early so that I would be able to get up for class the next day. But that night I tossed and turned for hours. I had horrible cotton mouth, my stomach hurt, I had diarrhea [which didn't help the dehydration] and needless to say I didn't feel so great in the morning. I laid in bed all day, barely able to move without getting a splitting headache. At one point my fever was up to 102 degrees. And I think throughout the day I must have drank at least 15 liters of water. I mean I was gulping it down.

Fortunately that night I felt well enough to lay in front of the TV and watch What About Bob. I thought the dehydration was ending and that I would be back in class the next day. But it wasn't...The next night was even worse than the first. This time I threw up on top of everything else that had been happening. [No, not literally on top of everything else, I made it to the bathroom] I woke up the next morning still feeling pretty crappy so I stayed in bed again, I drank another 10 liters of water and watched Lawrence of Arabia in my bed. [I had NO idea that it was more than 4 hours long. I mean it was great but what the heck?] And that night I felt a little better. I got up for the team meeting and saw people etc. It was nice.

But the real relief came this morning when I woke up. I timidly stood up expecting to get knocked down with a head rush, but it was fine. I was healed! I skipped into the bathroom where I took a nice long shower, got dressed, ate some left over pizza and rode off to school. It was glorious. It was almost worth being sick for a couple days just to get better, but not quite. Anyway, as Aaron said, chalk it up to experience. The sun can jack you up [especially in Granada where the difference between the shade and sun is like 15 degrees] so you have to take it seriously.