It's game day. And I'm sick. What is new? Ugh.
I planned on going with my mom tonight to watch my cousin Brad's basketball team play in the 2nd round of regional tournament. He's the greatest coach (along with every other coach in my family)! But when I woke up with a pounding headache, scratchy throat, and watery eyes I instantly thought back to another game with Brad just a couple years ago. Bless my heart. Just sayin'.
So Brad and Uncle Travis asked me if I wanted to go with them and another coach to watch some basketball games in northwest Arkansas. Since I love my family and basketball more than any other earthly thing, I jumped on the idea. I got home that Friday night, and they picked me up at Mom and Dad's.
We started making that fateful trip up the Pig Trail when I felt it coming on. Since it's a curvy ride up Hwy. 23, I thought I was a little car sick and some fresh air would cure me. We were standing next to the bleachers talking to some other coaches by a side exit when I couldn't stand there another second. I bolted out that door and barely made it to the concrete slab outside when my entire menu that day erupted into a pile of digested matter onto the ground. "Great. Now I smell like throw up," is all I could seem to think.
I sat in that stuffy gym while Brad was scouting over the course of a few more ballgames, and nothing was really phasing me. I didn't need to throw up, but I didn't feel like playing my own game either. I was just blah.
Blah is how I remained not just that night but for the next several weeks as my doctor diagnosed me with mono. So while student teaching (and no sick days to spare), I learned what it meant to work and be sick. Not the adventure I was really going for.
Regardless, it seems as though every time I want to watch basketball with Brad, I get sick. Every. Single. Time.
Whatever. I'm over it. I'll go home and put on my orange and black. Because if I'm going to be sick, I'd rather be sick in a basketball gym. At least I won't be sick for missing the game too.