Skirting the Cliff Face of Sickness

I think I'm getting sick.

Actually, I've been continuously thinking that I'm getting sick for the PAST MONTH. About twice a week I experience a cycle where I have minor symptoms of a cold (fuzzy head or scratchy throat or tender lymph nodes) accompanied with a stronger-than-average sleepiness. I'll get a bit worried about it, maybe drink some tea, and go to bed with a terrible feeling of dread hanging over me. Ugghhh, when I wake up I'm going to feel ten times worse, and then I'll have to just suffer until this cold is over.

Then I go to sleep, and I wake up, and I feel so fine that I don't even remember I thought I was getting sick the day before. In fact I feel so fine that I don't remember until a few days later when I feel like I'm about to get sick AGAIN.

This has been my constant cycle for the past four weeks. Each time I think, Oh boy, here it comes for real now. Except it never does. But now, I swear, it really feels like it's coming for real now!

I suppose this is nothing new to those readers of mine who actually have experience working in the real world. But for me, the discomfort of having to go to work sick is an acute and intolerable pain that I have never known the like. Growing up, sick days were almost as much fun as snow days. Sure, I was tired, groggy, feverish, and perhaps chained to a bowl of the toilet variety, but I got to stay home from school! In college a sick day was just another excuse to miss classes and take extra naps -- one of my favorite past times as an engineering student.

But now I know the hardships. You may be inclined to brush my frustrations off with a "Oh, Holly, now you know what it's like to be an adult and to have to be responsible." But in a potentially egocentric declaration, I would like to say that being sick at my job is definitely worse than being sick at your average adult-person's job.

For one thing, I have to be here for a minimum of twelve hours per day. No skipping out early as soon as my reports are done. For another, I often have to work outside. And the weather hasn't been exactly balmy in the Gulf of Mexico lately. Thirdly, well, thirdly... did I mention that I have to work for twelve hours! Do you know how hard that is when you're sick?

Sigh. I suppose all the real grown ups (and especially parents who had to work AND take care of kids) do know.

I should be fair and admit that my job isn't so bad if one's sick. Most of the time I do spend leaning back in my semi-reclining office chair paying a modicum of attention to three different computers streaming data from downhole. If I happen to fall asleep for fifteen minutes, chances are I haven't missed anything important. One can work a long time on nothing but fifteen minute chair-naps.

Regardless of all that, I still fear getting sick while on the rig like I fear nothing else. I don't want to get sick! Please, God, prevent me from getting sick! Is it too much to ask to be sick less than once a year? Am I being selfish? Because I reaaaallllly don't want to be sick right now. We've got seven thousand more feet to drill before I get to go home....

P.s. I'm hoping I'm not actually getting sick, and these phantom symptoms are being caused by the incessant cross-breeze I sit through allllll day long.

P.p.s. I just wanted to say that although the salad far surpassed their average level at lunch today, the spaghetti was the worst spaghetti I've eaten in memorable history.