[.Down With The Sickness.]

Stomach turning, Head pounding. A hammer was crashing into my skull.
These lights too bright, these voices too loud.

"Miss, I don't feel too well"


Stumble down the stairs, take a break every flight. Finally I'm with the lady in jeans and a white buttondown shirt.


"Sit here" She says
"Put this under your tongue"
"Dear lord, no wonder you feel so bad, call you mother at once"


Wait, and wait. When will she get here? In the corner of my eye I spot that oh so familiar black kiv. Slip into the vehicle, head falls into lap. Blurry, everything is so blurry. A lump builds in my throat and I force it back down, fight with it until it wins. The acid in my stomach somehow still there.


"I was drinking water from that cup... aww poor baby we'll get you home soon"

Nearly crawl up the stairs, pull up the dead weight into the new back saver bed. Stay there for days, nothing changes, and no ones really cares. Four days go by she needs me to be with someone. She needs someone who can watch and take care of me, someone like her gradmom or my great. Dropped off there like a stack of potatoes, it’s not getting better. Two days there and I’m seeing things. Things that shouldn’t be there... why are they there? Pictures shouldn't float like that. I talk to myself, cry into the pillow that offers forever loving softness. Pant into the cotton sheets as beads of sweat continue to roll like drops on a window pain.


"Deary take this" The seconds seem like forever, just beep already!

"Ohh no, we've got to call your mother!"
"Vicky she’s got a temp of 102.9, you should really got down here"


About two to three hours later I’m in CHOP. Being forced to pant into a mask surrounding my face. Damn that swine flu. And even though I'm feeling like my insides are frying and my head can't stay up right for longer then a half a second I'm still trying to keep my legs crossed in my skirt to be ladylike. Vanity truly is a curse. I'm put into one of the 500 beds there. The people in white coats run test, come back to ask questions.
Sleep is all that is wanted, needed. I slip into that deep center of the mind that one can only enter in unconsciousness. My mind crawls back into reality then flutters through my eyelids. I'm still here, colorful walls and wires still sucking my skin and making sounds based on movement. Time just seems to love misery and all its glory.

"You’re free to go now"

Walk down the long hallway full of younger and older children in much worse condition then I. I'd never feel so selfish and lightheaded at the same time. But now it’s back into the car, back into the deep sleep until we reach the average home in the center of the suburban town. This is with only hopes, wishes, good lucks, and lots of prayers of getting better, they don’t know what to do, so if it gets worse we'll go back...
But until then I'm just in love with the way the road hits the tires making my deep rest just that much more peaceful.