Fever

Last night, I went to bed with cold chills. Sure, the climate out here has been frigid, but a warming trend started yesterday... and besides, I had my heater going full blast. No, the cold was coming from within. My third illness this winter, a personal record. This time, the bug didn't mess around with sniffles or a scratchy throat. It made a full frontal assault on my system, and in no time, a full-scale battle raged.

Around midnight, I woke up sweating, with a head swimming in delirium. I took my temperature: 101.5. Popping some aspirin and downing a glass of water, I fell back into a fitful sleep. Around four in the morning, I woke up in a pool of sweat. The fever had broken, and I felt marginally better. I imagined myself as a battlefield after a major clash between the invading hordes of common cold virii and my defending antibodies, the field of battle drenched in sweat instead of blood.

Skirmishes are still popping up here and there in the "Kingdom of Strickland," but hopefully my body will win the war -- sooner rather than later, since I'm due to be scuba diving in Cozumel a week from today.