Sunday, December 28, 2003
Amazing what 14 hours of NyQuil-induced slumber will do for a body. I needed it, though - I'd sort of been sniffling a little on Thursday and Friday, but figure it was no really big deal, just a cold. Then, yesterday, I wake up feeling hung over. Which, with no drinking involved, couldn't be construed as good in any way.
I'm stubborn about taking medicine, though, in part because it seems like a crutch - especially for colds and flus, they only really treat symptoms. Besides, how am I supposed to know what this body's medical history, allergies, and the like are? I freaked out looking at the long list of possible drug interactions and side effects on the "Drug Facts" before the switch; now, forget about it. Maybe a couple of months ago, when I figured that this might have been intended as temporary or when I was sure that it was Michelle herself in my body, I wouldn't have been quite so unsure - there would be more reasons, both practical and sentimental, for me to get a heads-up on what might be harmful to this body. Now, who knows. Maybe Michelle or whoever is out in Seattle is shocked by my still being alive, wondering just when I'm going to eat some pistachios and drop dead.
The upshot of this, of course, is that by the time I was alarmed enough to actually run to the drugstore, I was too dizzy to get out of bed. Fortunately, Carter called asking if I'd like to see a movie. Normally I might have said "geez, we just did the 'let's just be friends' thing yesterday", but I instead opted to tell him that I was really sick and would really appreciate someone bringing some cold medicine over. The next hour was pretty agonizing, wondering if he was going to expect anything in return, or if he'd even come at all.
He did, though, bringing something called "Lemsip" that he'd discovered while stationed in the UK. It's apparently some sort of nuclear decongestant, melting everything in one's body softer than an eyeball. Five minutes after drinking this vile hot brew, I was standing over the sink and letting snot just drain out of me. Or at least it felt that way; I was still pretty sick, but within an hour wasn't worried about dying without ever finding out what the hell was going on with my life.
He was cool enough to just hang around the apartment and watch the first DVD of Firefly with me. I offered to pay him back, but he just said it felt good to hang around with the only person he knew in Boston who was here this weekend. And, hey, he'd missed Firefly when it was on Fox.
This really cements his status as a good guy to me. I wasn't really thinking about it last night, what with still feeling sick, but it was a really cool thing for him to do, considering how nasty the flu has been this year. If I could even think of getting myself a boyfriend right now, he'd be at the top of the list.
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