I was all set to write this week. I had a great idea that had been percolating. To top it all off, A. and I were going downtown for dinner in the North End, one of my favorite places in Boston. Katie and I lived together in the North End for three years, and some of my favorite memories take place there. Now that I live in a ‘burb, it can be a bit harder for me to make the trip into the city, so when a chance comes along, I go with it.
A. and I went downtown Saturday afternoon. That morning I hadn’t been feeling 100%, but I figured I may have drunk my coffee too fast or worked out a bit too hard at the gym. I passed it off as no big deal. Walking around Boston, I kept having to slow down and do the old lady shuffle. A. dragged me into a local drugstore to buy some Pepto Bismol, hoping that would put me at ease. Worse yet, I realized that even though I really hadn’t eaten that day, I was not hungry for dinner. (As anyone who knows me knows, if I pass over Italian food, hell is freezing over). A., being the concerned spouse, suggested we get on the T at Haymarket and head on home, nixing our dinner plans. I grudgingly agreed.
That is when the fun started.
Unlike Katie in her last fabulous post, I will be sharing some medical details with you. To be blunt, I now know which garbage can at the Park Street T station is the best one for tossing one’s cookies. That’s right, it was me you saw at 5 pm at the Park Street T station bending over a garbage can holding on for dear life. I wish I had a great story, like I got wildly drunk and created a choreographic miracle around the streets of Boston. Alas, I was struck down by the dreaded norovirus.
There is nothing graceful about norovirus. A. managed to get me to Harvard Square, where we then paid an exorbitant amount of money for a cab to get us home. I spent the rest of the weekend curled up in a fetal position wondering if I would ever be able to feel human again. The last time I fell asleep on the floor of a bathroom, I was in my twenties and at least deserved the consequences. Now? This was just cruel.
Norovirus is on the rise in Boston, and working at a university does expose me to a petri dish of germs, which can create the perfect storm of ickiness. I can tell you a few things from my experience though:
1. It doesn’t matter how much of a crazed hand washer you are, you can still get sick.
2. Not showering for two days can make one’s hair look fabulous.
3. Not brushing one’s teeth for two days can make one feel beyond gross. (But who really wants to put a toothbrush in your mouth when you can’t even eat!)
4. A symptom of dehydration is the dreaded charley horses in one’s legs. Holy pain, Batman! As a former runner, I am familiar with these horrid cramps, but I had no idea that they can happen within a day of being hit with the norovirus.
5. A partner’s true love will shine through when you send them out multiple times for Gatorade, look like Courtney Love after a bender, and they still tell you that they love you.
I am just starting to feel normal again, and maybe even looking forward to my shower and regular hygiene routine starting tomorrow. Until then, there are episodes of Law and Order to watch and glasses of Gatorade to drink.