By Ashley Strehl
Editor-in-Chief
I think one of the worst things about adulting is getting sick. It is horrible. It is so depressing and hindering to an everyday life of a full-time student and editor-in-chief of a university newspaper.
One of the worst things would have to be that you do not have your mom there to hug you and bring you water, medicine, or vapor rub. Don’t get me wrong, I love it when the weather gets cooler. There is something magical and peaceful about fall weather. Unfortunately, for me, I have a terminal cold until the spring.
Nobody feels bad for you, and no one wants to take care of you in the fear of getting sick themselves. It’s survival of the fittest out here and I am not fit, at all. In fact, I’m a baby. I will wallow around in my own self-pity before doing anything to make sure that I get better. I even texted my boyfriend saying that I’m sick and I’d feel better if he was with me but, honestly, that’s just me trying to get attention. It’s pathetic. In the past, it’s been a lot worse, I had fewer responsibilities, so I had more time to do the wallowing mentioned before.
I can recall one occasion where I had a really bad stomach flu. I was living in the dorms, and although I was puking every 30 or so minutes I found the time and energy to move my bed out into the bathroom area so I would be closer to the toilet.
To this day my roommates still harass me and say that I was being “way too dramatic.”
I defend myself everytime because, well, I was sick! I didn’t want to keep puking in my room! Looking back now, I probably should of just stayed in my little corner in my room and got through that horrible god awful illness that still gives me nightmares, on my own.
One thing that always crosses my mind when I’m feeling ill is that I didn’t appreciate my health enough. When I’m bed ridden the one thing I want is to be better, and I beat myself up for not enjoying my life when I was healthy.
I’ve come to the conclusion that I am becoming my father. I remember a time when my dad stayed home from work due to the common cold.
He took my hand and said, “Ashley, if I don’t make it I want you to have all my belongings, and grow to be happy with lots of children. Don’t forget about me when I’m gone.” To that I replied, “Dad, you’re so dramatic!!”