The Plague
In November 2010, my favorite author, Lauren Willig, came to town to do a book signing.
I came down with a ‘mild cold’ that quickly warmed up to feeling like death warmed over. I wouldn’t have gone if I’d known how terrible I was going to feel – but I felt fine when we left. It wasn’t until we got there that I was aware of how sick I was.
So when I heard a few months ago that Willig was coming back to town, I thought PERFECT! I can meet Lauren Willig again, and not be sick, and actually enjoy the experience.
I just needed to not get sick.
If I heard that people were sick, I canceled plans. I washed my hands, kept my fingers away from my ears, nose, eyes, and mouth. I propped myself up with vitamins and immunity boosting supplements.
And then the boy brought the plague home.
Now, it’s extremely rare that the boy and I share illnesses. So I was cautiously optimistic that I might be okay. I took care of him, from a distance, while continuing my regimen of vitamins, exercise, and good food.
When we made it a good five days out from his plague, I thought maybe, just maybe I might make it.
No, of course not. I wouldn’t write this if I’d escaped.
One week – one week! – out from Lauren Willig, I started coughing and spiked a fever.
Even though I’m past the point of contagion, and I know that by Tuesday, I won’t be feeling like death warmed over, I know I’ll still be coughing. Which means that if I decide to go, I’ll be “the girl who is always sick for Lauren Willig” …
I won’t lie, I’m a little bitter. I tried so hard, did all the right things, and I still ended up sick.
I’m sad.



