The Good Citizen Award
I write this as I slowly come down from my monthly WebMD induced panic. Every once in a while, I start feeling sick or run down or find a new freckle and instantly search it on WebMD. It's certainly not a productive or healthy habit . . . I wonder if I could search "neurotically checking WebMD" on WebMD. Interesting.
Anyways, I'm actually sick this time, and although I'm currently switching between mononucleosis and meningitis as my self diagnoses, it's definitely just the flu. Whenever I get sick, I will wallow in self pity in my bed for hours on end, thinking, "This is the worst I have ever felt in my life. I'm going to die". Then, I remember that I had swine flu during media frenzy peak and I actually thought I would die.
And then I remember that swine flu wasn't even as bad as puking ever is.
Not only is throwing up the worst experience that a human being can have, throwing up in public is the most shameful thing that I can think of myself having done. I hate it. One experience stands out in my memory, and it is probably the farthest that I have clawed into the depths of my memory banks for this blog. You're welcome.
When I was in fourth grade, we had a popcorn party. I don't remember why, I just know that I was as excited as a chubby little girl told that food would be available to her in class could be. The class voted to watch Bambi, which I was not excited about. How was I to know that an event far more embarrassing than crying in front of other ten-year-olds was lurking around the butter-scented corner?
I was munching on my popcorn happily when a kernel became lodged in my throat. I started to cough, at first mildly annoyed at the irritant, and then increasingly distressed as the coughing became more violent. The coughing turned into retching and before I knew what was happening, I began spewing out fresh popcorn vomit all over my desk. My teacher screamed and ran for a trash can. My fellow classmates were either reveling in the glory of the disgusting event or sympathy puking on their own desks.
When I had finished (which, although it seemed to last an eternity to my fourth grade mind, was probably only 15-30 seconds later), my friend Cailey held a trash can under my face as I stumbled the shameful walk to the bathroom. As I continue to argue to this day, Cailey's trash can holding was completely unnecessary. As I tried to explain to Mrs. Riddle, I had not thrown up because I was sick, I had thrown up because in my overzealous popcorn consumption, I had lodged a kernel in my throat. Now that that kernel was no longer jammed in my esophagus, they were in no danger of further eruptions.
The reason that this act causes disputations between my dear friend and I to this day is that she earned the coveted Good Citizen's Award for this act, when I, not two weeks prior, had been denied it. I had found five dollars by the pick-up line and instead of doing this:
I turned it in like a good citizen, but was not awarded anything. That's all I'm saying, Cailey.
Anyways, I'm actually sick this time, and although I'm currently switching between mononucleosis and meningitis as my self diagnoses, it's definitely just the flu. Whenever I get sick, I will wallow in self pity in my bed for hours on end, thinking, "This is the worst I have ever felt in my life. I'm going to die". Then, I remember that I had swine flu during media frenzy peak and I actually thought I would die.
 |
| Not a comforting image to someone with swine flu. |
Not only is throwing up the worst experience that a human being can have, throwing up in public is the most shameful thing that I can think of myself having done. I hate it. One experience stands out in my memory, and it is probably the farthest that I have clawed into the depths of my memory banks for this blog. You're welcome.
When I was in fourth grade, we had a popcorn party. I don't remember why, I just know that I was as excited as a chubby little girl told that food would be available to her in class could be. The class voted to watch Bambi, which I was not excited about. How was I to know that an event far more embarrassing than crying in front of other ten-year-olds was lurking around the butter-scented corner?
I was munching on my popcorn happily when a kernel became lodged in my throat. I started to cough, at first mildly annoyed at the irritant, and then increasingly distressed as the coughing became more violent. The coughing turned into retching and before I knew what was happening, I began spewing out fresh popcorn vomit all over my desk. My teacher screamed and ran for a trash can. My fellow classmates were either reveling in the glory of the disgusting event or sympathy puking on their own desks.
When I had finished (which, although it seemed to last an eternity to my fourth grade mind, was probably only 15-30 seconds later), my friend Cailey held a trash can under my face as I stumbled the shameful walk to the bathroom. As I continue to argue to this day, Cailey's trash can holding was completely unnecessary. As I tried to explain to Mrs. Riddle, I had not thrown up because I was sick, I had thrown up because in my overzealous popcorn consumption, I had lodged a kernel in my throat. Now that that kernel was no longer jammed in my esophagus, they were in no danger of further eruptions.
The reason that this act causes disputations between my dear friend and I to this day is that she earned the coveted Good Citizen's Award for this act, when I, not two weeks prior, had been denied it. I had found five dollars by the pick-up line and instead of doing this:
I turned it in like a good citizen, but was not awarded anything. That's all I'm saying, Cailey.
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