Brong-kite-us.

Yesterday, I had one of the worst fevers of my life - as far as I can remember. It was one of the weirdest experiences ever. Apparently, when a fever gets high enough it can play with your imagination, and mine went absolutely wild.

When I woke up yesterday morning I was hurting. All of my muscles just felt like they were in agonizing pain during the smallest of activities. Walking to and from class was a task. I felt like I hadn't slept at all. You know, that weird feeling where you're not really out of it, but you certainly aren't in it at all, and you sort of zombie around everywhere. On top of this I was constantly freezing cold until all of the sudden I wasn't and I thought I might die of a heat stroke. After class at two, I seriously debated going back to my dorm and skipping my three o'clock, but I decided to attend. This did absolutely nothing for me because like I said, I was a zombie, and I retained nothing from that lecture. I immediately went to my dorm, my room, my bed, and to sleep. This is where it gets interesting.

Sleep only came to me in flashes - twenty minutes, four minutes, an hour - and I couldn't really tell whether I'd been sleeping or not. My whole body was drenched with sweat underneath the single sheet I'd bundled up in, and the fan I'd set up to keep me cool was chilling me to the bone. I feel like this is where my fever was probably the highest, because my muscles were talking to each other. They were trying to be organized and ruthless so that they could fight off... something. I never really figured out what was trying to come into and take over my dorm room, but the muscles in my body weren't going to have it. Apparently the only way to fight off the invader was to change sleeping positions every few seconds - which in reality was as spaced out as much as my sleeping pattern. I had hundreds of dreams. I saw so many people and places and lived a life completely out of my own body for seconds at a time. Everything was coming in flashes whether I was awake or not. I could barely tell the difference between dream and reality.

After laying in my bed for about seven hours I was really starting to freak out. I was honestly questioning my sanity. Because of this, I decided to call my mom. Something about her voice was sobering, and she reasoned with me, explaining that no, I had not gone insane, and being a nurse, I had no reason to disagree.

The rest of the story is not so interesting, but in short, I tried to find a thermometer but couldn't. Two of my friends, Robadore and Meg, went out to Kroger at 11:30 and bought me one, just so I could check my temperature. What awesome people! By the time they arrived back to my room I took my temp and scored a 101.0 but I was already starting to feel better by that point. I'm thinking I hit at least a 102.5, but I was delirious so I really don't know. Anyway, that's the story. Turns out it's just bronchitis. Who knew?