The end of the conference didn't happen quite as off-into-the-sunset as I'd hoped. Shani returned from checking her bag and said she felt a little funny. I launched into one of my food poisoning 101 lectures while she patiently smiled. An hour later I was feeling a little funny, too. I made it up to my room to put away my computer, realizing almost immediately that there was nothing little or funny about how I was feeling. An hour later I was moaning and writhing on the floor. "Worse than labor" I thought, "and no nice surprise at the end."
Don called to ask a question about whether Sydney should be going to another town with people we didn't know for an undetermined amount of time. Normally I am able to pay attention to these conversations. I could only say, "Not now, really sick." This sent him into a panic in which he called the hotel manager and the President of the University to implore them to break into my room and transport me by force, if necessary, to the nearest medical facility. (To Don's credit, he knows I'd have to be near death not to demand specifics re: Syd and her generally random plans.) Robert, long suffering conference director, got tagged with the dubious task of driving me to the ER where they pumped me full of medicine immediately.
I am grateful to one and all for the intervention. Having survived the near-death experience, I awoke to a new day and maybe a near-reincarnation to my new life--post conference PhD student.
Meanwhile back at the homestead, most everyone was glad to see me. (The exception to this is always my husband's cat. She took one look at my returning suitcase and threw up on my side of the bed.) Our new exchange student Adel had survived the ordeal of the dogs who hadn't been taken out for days. Jim hadn't lost too much weight secondary to his inability to use the microwave. My dog Elvis was ecstatic and remains seizure free. The new little dog, Peter, who is totally deaf and pretty much blind, had forgotten who I am but still likes me anyway. The UPS lady (who really likes me) has been delivering books daily since Monday. I have weighed them (a disappointing 9.6 pounds--hardly a proper pound/dollar ratio) but haven't opened them. I thought I'd give myself a day then maybe print some study guides and get going tomorrow. Except tomorrow I have appointments and Saturday I have to leave for my granddaughter Melissa's wedding So maybe I should open them Sunday, but the house is filfthy (dogs really didn't seem to get out much) and there's no food in the refrigerator (someone besides Jim obviously ate it) and my bookshelves need rearranging to make room for the new shipment. I could start with a trip to the bookstore to buy something on procrastination....
BTW (as Syd would say) her Highness popped in for a second to tell me she was on her way to Sally's Hair Supply to buy Revolution (which I seem to recall is a flea medicine) so we really haven't seen each other but she is alive and I didn't notice any new piercings. Is there such a thing as reentry in retrograde?
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