Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 59713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
I nodded. “I’m fine.” The second I said it, my stomach did a little flip like it needed to remind me not to be so cocky. Message more than received. I shook my head. “No. I am not fine. I woke up feeling really sick this morning.”
“Why don’t you go see the school nurse? She might be able to help you,” he suggested.
I wanted to protest, but it had become blatantly obvious there was no way I was getting through the rest of the day without some sort of intervention. I went through the school to the clinic and found myself stretched out on one of the green beds in a darkened alcove at the back. Mrs. Ranney came up to me and put a thermometer to my forehead, then asked me about my symptoms.
“And you said you’ve just been feeling this way this morning?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yes. I was fine all weekend, but I woke up feeling awful.”
She gave an understanding nod. “There’s a pretty nasty stomach bug going around the school. Took out five students already today.”
“Oh, that’s fantastic,” I groaned. “I’m assuming that means it’s contagious.”
“Extremely. You really should go on home.” She went to a cabinet on the wall and came back with a pack of crackers. “Nibble on these. It will help keep your stomach settled until you get home.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling a little bit dejected as I headed out of the clinic to go back to the classroom.
I didn’t mean to be the type of person who blindly believed somebody with a thermometer and the ability to dispense medication had the magical ability to fix illness just by looking at me. And yet, there I was, disappointed to have been turned back toward the classroom with only a pack of crackers and an admonition to go home before I infected the rest of the student population to show for the visit.
“What did the nurse say?” Mr. Proctor asked when I walked back into the classroom.
“Apparently, there’s a stomach bug going around, and that’s what she thinks I have,” I said. “I have a fever, and she said it’s pretty contagious, so I shouldn’t be here.”
“That sounds awful,” he said.
“I’m so sorry. I hate to leave you in the lurch.”
Mr. Proctor shook his head, reaching out to take me by the upper arms to calm me down. “Stop. There’s no need for you to apologize. This isn’t your fault. It’s not like you intentionally contracted a stomach virus. You already did so much last week that we are well ahead. I’ll be just fine. What matters is you need to get better. I’ll let Mr. Wayne know you had to go home. Just get some rest and don’t come back until your fever is gone, you hear?”
I sniffled, feeling emotional as I often did when I got sick. “I’m still sorry.”
“Go get better,” he said, waving me off.
I gathered up my things and left the classroom. When I got in my car, I called my doctor’s office to see if she wanted me to come in. I figured if I was already in the car, I might as well make the most of my transit time by swinging by there first rather than going right home.
“Your symptoms are a fever, nausea, and vomiting?” the nurse on call asked.
“Yes,” I said. “I started experiencing the symptoms this morning when I woke up. The nurse at the high school where I work said that there’s a stomach virus going around.”
“Yep,” the nurse said. “That is absolutely right. We’ve been packed solid with people reporting those same symptoms. And we’ve had to tell them all the same thing. There’s not much we can do about a virus. You’re pretty much going to have to let it run its course.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that. So, you don’t want me to come in?”
“No. Rest and fluids are what your body needs right now. Go home and sleep. Drink plenty of water and electrolyte drinks. Avoid soda. No milk. I would steer clear of orange juice.”
She sounded like she was going through a script she’d written for herself, but I couldn’t really blame her. If we were in the middle of an outbreak of this nasty virus, then she had probably gone through this whole thing a dozen times today. I thanked her and hung up. My only stop was at the grocery store to grab some electrolyte drinks and plain saltine crackers, and then I went home.
Changing into pajamas felt amazing, and I was happy to sink down onto my couch. I checked my phone and saw that I had an email waiting for me. It was from Mr. Wayne. I wondered if this was the technology-age version of getting called to the principal’s office and what the high schoolers felt if emails like this popped up in their inboxes.