In sickness and in health

A three day weekend lay before us, and it would be glorious: a road trip to Ridgeway and Ouray where we could relax in hot springs, eat and drink at breweries, and be merry.

We went left in the morning and arrived late in the afternoon in the town of Ridgeway. Everything was going according to plan — hot tubbing, then pizza and microbrews. We made our way back to the hotel room to relax and rest up for the remainder of our planned adventures.

And then it came with a vengeance, as food poisoning always does at 3 a.m. I sprinted to the bathroom and made it just in time for the violent sequence of vomiting and other lovely symptoms associated with the affliction to rear their ugly heads.

At first I thought I’d feel better after puking, and went back to bed hoping my health would improve by morning. I settled back under the covers, closed my eyes, and prepared my white blood cells for battle.

Within the hour, the bacteria and my immune system were in a full scale war, and the battlefield location had been selected: the bathroom. After a while, I even debated bringing a blanket and pillow in there, so I wouldn’t have to sprint at every impulse of impending spewage.

As night turned slowly into day, I began to realize that I would not be able to fully enjoy our weekend. Soda water, canned chicken noodle soup and Saltines would make up my dining experience, and the hotel room would be my spa.

I felt awful. My foolish fast food choice — which was causing utter turmoil inside of me — also sabotaged the weekend.

So I laid in bed the whole time, and Tyler dutifully stuck by me. Since he was perfectly healthy, I felt guilty for not being able to go and enjoy our time off together. He heated up soup for me, went to the store, and made sure I had plenty of beverages to replenish my system. I told him to leave me and enjoy his time off, but he insisted on staying. I don’t know what felt worse: my sickly state, or ruining his weekend too. He had just worked 10 days in a row, and planned this awesome trip for us, I couldn’t help but feel guilty.

By the next morning, I felt better. I could keep down food, and the nausea had subsided. This was great timing because we had to drive five hours to make it home that evening. We made it home, not having experienced the trip we wanted to, but at least we had a memorable one.