Some things never change

Those of you who know me know that about once every couple of months I get violently ill because I refuse to listen to my body and relax.  Well living in a foreign country is no different I guess.  I’ve been sick for a while but nothing really too serious: a headache, a cough, and a stuffy nose.  But today turned out to be drastically different than I planned. I go to church in the morning feeling fine, well relatively speaking.  I come home for an hour or too and my friend Kristen and I decide to go back out to check this other church we have been hearing about.  But I as get ready my body suddenly turns into ice and my headache starts flaring up again.  So naturally my response is to put on more layers and pop in a couple more Advil.  I make it down to the tram and meet Kristen at the metro.  But now I’m a little worried because it feels as if a war is about to commence, both sides are recruiting forces and setting up camp.  Well Prague metro stations have these really intense vertical escalators that are intimidating to even the most clear-headed passenger.  So of course as soon as I step foot on the downward decent into the eternal abyss of the metro station some stupid artilleryman from the enemy side lets loose the first arrow and it sticks me right in the gut.  No joke, it is as if I have sudden vertigo and my muscles simply give way.  I turn dead white and look to Kristen unable to comprehend what just hit me.  By the grace of God we make it down the escalator and I legitimately lie down in the disgusting, dirty floor for I am sure I am about to pass out.  After I feel as if I can muster up enough strength to make it back up the escalator we start the journey back up. But halfway through I know I am not going to make it. Sheer will keeps it in until I get to the top where then I spill all my insides into this poor, innocent trashcan at this random metro station. My body is clearly in full-fledged war by this point.  And whatever is inside me is trying desperately to retreat as fast as it can. We then find a near by bathroom and I live there for the next half an hour.  While sitting there I couldn’t help but laugh at the situation and acknowledge the fact that this would happen to me because sick stories are my specialty.  Well Kristen, being the Godsend that she is helps me back to my apartment and I walk into my room to find my roommates appalled at the sight of me.  Apparently I look like death.  Being safe and sound in an apartment rather than the streets of Prague, I curl up in my uncomfortable bed, finding solace only in the fact that I can officially cross ‘first time sick in a foreign country’ off my list.