Growing up, when I was youthful and naive, I took for granted being catered to whenever I caught a cold. My mom would deliver me warm blankets, fluffed pillows, and medicine every four-five hours. Ice cream was bought if I had a sore throat, soup was made if I had a stuffy nose, and ginger ale was poured if I had a stomach bug. There is nothing better than being home, in your comfy bed, with your mom as your personal nurse when you are sick.
I’ll never forget the first time I came down with something while I was away at college, which is borderline inevitable with the amount of people you’re in constant contact with on campus. Freshman year, I wanted nothing more than to curl in a tight, little ball and wait for my mom to get on a plane and come take care of me. A fever, swollen throat, achy body, stuffy nose- you name it, I had it. Being 650+ miles away from home when that happens sucks. This was the first time I was sick and completely on my own.
Some may say I am being dramatic, which may or may not be true, but no one can tell me that they do not miss Superwoman mom coming to save the day when a fever strikes. They always know what to do and how to take care of you. Now, my mom did not jump on a plane and come to my rescue- that would have been absurd, extremely thoughtful and I would have been eternally grateful, but absurd (I think). In fact, I walked my sick butt all the way to the Student Health Center on campus, only to sit for hours, amongst about 17 other sick individuals, waiting to be seen by a physician. When one person catches something, the entire campus should be shut down because that is how it spreads like wildfire, am I right?
Well, ultimately, the experience made me grow up a bit, which was, I guess, a positive thing considering that would definitely not be the last time I had to make that long, miserable walk to the health center. I was my own Superwoman that week while trying to recover. I managed to take care of myself and not fall too behind on school work. The amount of phone calls made to my home up in New Jersey were a little excessive, but a girl needs to cry to her mom about being cooped up in bed with no homemade chicken noodle soup to make her feel better.