Ever since I started medical school and/or dating crankypants, my immune system just hasn't been the same. (I'm not sure which one I should blame, so both get to split it.)

Until last February, there were only three instances where I was too sick to function. Once was when I was 4 and had chicken pox - and I probably still functioned fine, but wasn't allowed to go to school for an entire day. (I also had 8 chicken pox. That's right. Eight. Or maybe it was six. Whatever it was, it was a ridiculously low number. That is how good my immune system is - oh wait, was.) Then once in 6th grade, I got the flu and had to stay home. The last time, I was a senior in high school, and that time I think it was psychosomatic, where I made myself physically ill over worrying about getting into college and couldn't get out of bed. So that doesn't really count.

That's it. Two (or three) days of my entire life where I wasn't able to go about my daily business. Otherwise, I'd never gotten anything worse than a mild sore throat. Good enough to whine about, but not good enough to claim being incapacitated.

Then last February, during that big horrible blizzard, I was visiting crankypants. And I Got Sick. Sick as in, achy stuffy runny headachy fevery nearly-on-deathbed. Sick as in, I really shouldn't have gotten out of bed and wouldn't have, except for the fact that he didn't have a TV in his bedroom and I wanted to watch TV, and thus had to park my poor self on the sofa.

To top it off, that stupid blizzard hit, and we couldn't even leave the apartment. I would have called my parents for pity, but didn't want to be yelled at for not bringing my antibiotics with me, as I apparently am supposed to every time I travel. I felt even worse for him, because obviously I 1) am a girl and 2) was too sick to move, so he had to go trudging through knee-deep snow (because of course the snowplows weren't working) to the supermarket, a good mile and a half away, to get food. And he was otherwise trapped in the apartment with a very whiny me. Whiny and sick me is so not a good combination. This is how conversations went:

(Obviously) me: "I think I'm dying."
Him: "No, you're not dying. But get back into bed, you shouldn't be moving about."
Me (being difficult because it's so much fun): "But I wanna watch TV."
Him: "Get back in bed and I'll bring you a book."
Me: "I've read all the books in your apartment and want to watch TV. I think you should get a TV for your bedroom."
[15 second pause]
Me: "I think I have a fever, feel my forehead."
Him, after putting his palm on my forehead: "Maybe you have a slight fever."
Me: "You're doing it wrong, you're supposed to put the back of your hand on my forehead, your palm is already warm. Don't you have a thermometer?"
[20 second pause]
Me: "I haven't gotten this sick since sixth grade. This is all your fault. You're germy."

Repeat every fifteen minutes or so.

And since med school/dating crankypants, I have gotten sick - maybe not to this degree, but definitely more than just a mild sore throat sick several times each winter. Coincidence? I think not.

Anyhow, why this all comes up.. I am currently icky and sniffly and sore and feeling very full of pity for myself. And I obviously can't make it to class. As a matter of fact, I should really bring my computer over to my bed and play (ahem, study) from there..