"It's the Black Lung, Pop"

Laundry dried, but not put away.  Bed warmer left on all day.  Schedule cleared.  Constant streaming of absurd 90's sitcoms on Netflix.  Inauguration of the cozy Christmas socks my sister sent last year.  Toilet and toilet-side bucket disinfected more times in 24 hours than in the normal course of the entire year.  There can be only one reasonable explanation for all of this - illness.

Ok, so it's not the black lung.  It's more likely some kind of violent stomach bug.  Seriously though, if this thing were a convicted felon, the warden would totally place him in solitary for the duration of his sentence.  Hopefully my immune system's already on that.  For now, I'm fighting just to swallow a little liquid every couple of hours.  Honestly, I am a bit concerned about becoming too dehydrated because our town's not exactly known for its stellar medical care or facilities.

Frankly, the only thing I'd know how to explain to a doctor here would be that I don't feel comfortable (to put it mildly), I have pain (yep, just in general), that I have NOT caught a cold, and that my "cough" has...stuff.  A lot of stuff.  (You're welcome.)  Yet another reason I need to buckle down on my language studies, eh.

This summer I did my best to prepare by basically packing a corner Walgreens worth of goods from the states, but even the pretty, pink Pepto tablets refuse to stay where Procter & Gamble intended.  In the last two hours, I have successfully ingested about 1 oz of gatorade (thanks for that foresight, Dad!) and 1 ginger chew (pilfered from my dear roommate).  Strangely enough, the thing I've missed the most is having a bathtub that I could curl up next to and cool my forehead against while laying on the tiled floor.  Well, that and feeling normal, though the two hardly go hand in hand.

All that to say, if any of you are reading this and would like to ask for a little healthfulness and protection from our Father, it would not go unappreciated!  Likewise, I hope you are healthy and happy to the fullest.