The Spanish Plague and the Half Way Point

So as most of you know, I'm pretty healthy. When everyone else catches the flu, I sit idly by and thank God that it isn't me. The last time I had a cold was right before I came here, and it also marked the first and only time I've ever called off work or missed ANYTHING in my adult life due to illness. For the first two months here, I watched my roommate go from one sickness to another. Cold, cough, sore throat... We were constantly at the pharmacy!

Well the weather has been really nice here (upper 60s and occasionally the low 70s already). My roommate began leaving our window open when we went to bed for a little fresh air. This was great for the first couple of weeks when the temperatures were as stated above. However this past weekend through yesterday, we've had a bit of a cold spell, where it has dropped down to the 40s and 50s. Consequently, I woke up Sunday morning shivering, as half the blankets on my bed had been discarded due to the past warmth. I knew this wasn't good, but alas, by the time the cold woke me up, it was morning already and I had endured the cold all night.

[I would like to interject here that anyone with any knowledge of medicine and bacteria might point out that a cold just doesn't float in one's window. This is true, but once said cold window weakens one's immune system, it isn't a stretch of the imagination for anyone who has ridden a Metro to conclude that there are more than enough germs there to catch the aforementioned cold.]

I started to feel funny yesterday, so for the first time since arriving here, I didn't go with my roommate to our Monday night sangria night, where we meet with other internationals (Americans and Russians) to talk only in Spanish. I stayed home and went to bed super-early. Well by the middle of the night the cold and fever set in, and I slept miserably. I kept drinking water to flush it out, but it was no use. Then as if things couldn't get any worse, the electricity in our building was off when I woke up this morning. The scheduled maintenance was supposed to be for tonight, but unsurprisingly, the signs posted up were incorrect. So after patiently waiting for the electricity to return, I got ready and made my way to breakfast. With a full-blown cold and diminished taste buds, you can imagine my dismay to find that this was the morning (she only does it once a month) that my host mom decided to buy us large pastries for breakfast instead of our usual bread and chocolate. So after eating a pastry I couldn't taste and swallowing some more liquids, I headed to class.

Class of course was miserable. I was sick and feverish, but at the same time, attendance was taken in 3 out of my 4 classes today, so it would have been death to skip. At slightly after 2, I rushed home to eat a little lunch, because although my stomach doesn't hurt in any way, I also don't have an appetite.

Now for the worst news of all: This afternoon my study abroad group was visiting the interior of the Palacio Real, or Royal Palace, which is Spain's equivalent of the White House. Complete with stately rooms and apparently the most gorgeous interior that can meet the eyes, the Palacio Real is one place you can't leave Madrid without seeing. But since I had endured sickness and fever in my classes all day, I literally found it difficult to stand up for my Metro ride home. It was at this point that I made the decision to stay home and rest rather than attempting to hold myself up for a two hour visit to the palace. Having made this decision, I planned to stay here and take a nap and possibly not wake up until morning. Well as you can see by the presence of this post, it failed.

This brings me to a very scary conclusion: It's very possible that I have contracted the Spanish plague. You know, like the bubonic plague, only worse. I will keep you updated on my condition, but in the meantime I feel like death. That's all there is to it.


But on the bright side: Today marks the half way point in my trip! In exactly 67 days, I will be gracing all of you with my presence once again. I anticipate that each of you are excited in your own way, because I for one can't even describe how excited I am. Granted I have a few things left to look forward to: Morocco, Salamanca, Segovia, visit from Lydia and Scott, Barcelona (?), and who knows what else. Nonetheless, 67 days :)