Temporary Secretary

Part 20

7 February 1981

Saturday 10:00am

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Unfortunately, your sickness continued on Friday as well.

You were unable to do much else but lay completely still, drifting in and out of consciousness, hurling into the bucket you had set beside your bed for that very purpose, not that you had much to expel.

You were very apologetic on the phone that morning. It was supposed to be your last day, and you were missing it due to this horrible illness.

Thankfully, Paul didn't seem to take it personally, and wasn't bothered so much. It was only the two days you'd missed after all, and your last two days at that. As mentioned, you hardly ever got sick, only ever little colds that didn't hinder your ability to work.

He didn't come by Friday, but the stuff he'd brought had been a great help. Suppose your primary motivation was to get him away quick, lest infect him, but you felt guilty being so harsh when he came by, not even offering a "thank you".

He truly didn't have to make the effort, but you appreciated it a great deal. The bag contained a hot cup of soup (likely from the grocers), so you didn't have to worry about cooking that night, and were able to replenish some of the energy you'd...expelled.

It also had the aforementioned Rifampin, which helped a lot in lessening your nausea, enough to eat, and fall back asleep.

There was also some cold medicine. To be fair, you weren't sure what you had, but the symptoms seemed flu-like, the fever in combination with the nausea.

Regardless, you downed it on Friday, barely conscious for the better part of the day. You drifted back in on your sofa, being shocked awake by the lazer sound effects coming from your television set. Turns out a Dr. Who serial had come on while you slept.

Thankfully, the medicine made the second day better than the first.

Saturday morning, like the previous two, you began it by releasing the contents of your stomach into the tub beside you.

And yet, by some miracle, the pain faded.

You'd awoken at 10am, much later than you usually slept, but after that last bought, the nausea left you. Your head felt fine. The sun was out, its lovely beams shining in through the window. It was wonderful, the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. If your body still didn't feel weak, you would've jumped for joy.

It was such a strange sensation regaining coherence after spending the better part of two days completely in a stupor.

You stretched your arms, getting to your feet. Most of all, you felt famished, the thought of food no longer bringing unimaginable nausea into your body and mind.

You no longer felt both hot and cold, no longer horribly dizzy. In a way, being ill made not being ill feel all the better, no pleasure without suffering, putting it into perspective and all that.

You decided to take a bath, first of all, something you went without, laying in bed impotent.

Drying off, you got dressed properly for the first time in a while, it being a relief to not be in your nightgown anymore.

You felt even more pleased when it didn't turn out to be a false alarm. As you fully awoke, you still felt no nausea or sickness, despite the paranoia it was only a fluke.

You put your bedsheets in the wash, along with your nightclothes and dressing gown. It would be so nice to have clean sheets, everything good and fresh.