(Home)sick

In my whole time away, I've only really been homesick twice - last year when my dog needed surgery, and today when I was actually, properly, legitimately sick. 

Most of the time away, I've been pretty impressed with my self-sufficiency. Aside from little materialistic things (like sausage rolls, and toilet doors that don't have massive gaps around the edges - seriously, you can actually see people through the toilet door gaps here) I don't miss home all that much. When problems come up, I deal with them, usually with minimal fuss and tears. Facebook stalking and regular family Skype dates makes me feel connected to the home-world. 

But no matter how much you think you've grown up, there is something about a full-fledged intestinal escape attempt that takes you straight back to childhood, as my parents learned when they got a tearful Skype call at 11pm on a Tuesday night from their sobbing 22 year old toddler who communicated solely through sniffly nods and sporadically running to the bathroom. 

As I lie in the student medical centre with my gastrointestinal system actively resenting me, I can't help but compare how my day would have been different if I was at home. 

• Red Cordial - For me, extra strong drinks of red cordial are the ultimate in sick comfort "food", for good reason - the stuff kills E-Coli! But cordial isn't a thing over here - they have Kool-Aid (which tastes bizarre) and strange flavour sachets, but neither of those can in anyway match the comfort level of Cottees Red Cordial. 

My stomach feels better just looking at this bad boy.
Source: http://www.unifor.com.au/WebRoot/ecshared01/Shops/unifor/4E65/B198/924A/9CDF/5EEC/
C0A8/D241/302F/cottees_cordial_raspberry_bottle_2l_x_6ctn.png

• I wouldn't have been on a plane - there is legitimately nothing worse than hurling your guts out on a plane as it starts to land, except maybe being told you have to return to your seat, despite still needing to vomit, and being given one of the famous airline sick bags. I also wouldn't have needed to throw up out of a cab window on the freeway, and into a bucket both as I walked to the bus stop, and again on the bus as I dragged my sorry butt to the student medical centre. Helloooo small dignity of driving. 
• Mum and Dad could do my life administration - I know, lame and most people would still do this on their own back home, but it was horrendous having to type emails to various Professors and reschedule a job interview myself, while dashing to the bathroom every 15mins. 
• I would have had nurse Barnaby on call - the staff at the medical centre here have been completely fabulous, but sometimes a girl just needs her dog to sporadically sniff around her and make sure she's not dead. 

What a cutie.
Definitely just cried a little bit when I saw this, and the nurse saw me. Ugh. I'm a red hot mess. 

• My high school track pants - being the athletic fiend that I am, I know you're all shocked and appalled by my lack of athletic apparel, but it's true. The next best thing, my pyjama pants, were incapacitated during the early phases of day. Back home, my embarrassingly vast collection of worn-in-just-the-right-amount track pants would have been the order of the day. Jeans, my only other pants here, were a bad choice. 
• A medium between staying home, and being in hospital - this morning particularly, there was no way I could be left alone, but there was no brother who was just slacking around to get me stuff, or grandmothers to pop in and give sympathy. So my only option was to check myself into the infirmary at school - a quasi-hospital situation. I know I didn't have other options, and I definitely needed the anti-nausea stab I got, but I felt pretty silly lying in a hospital bed all day. 
• Someone would have validated my need to get the shot - back home, I would have ummm-ed and ahhh-ed about whether I really needed the shot, and some family member would have just been like "Lucy, stop being a prat, you can't keep water down, man up and get the damn needle", and I would have gotten the stab, and felt like I could externalise blame for the terror that is injections. Here, the decision was all on me, and while I *knew* I needed it, I hated only having myself to blame for actually volunteering for it. Fun fact: needle in the hip are not less traumatising than arm needles. 
• Mum's Pumpkin Soup - Ok, this has less to do with being sick because I wouldn't be eating it anyway, and more just sooking about being far away. 

I think I'm ok now - just all of my body aches a bit, and my intestines are still not completely sold on the idea of staying put, but I still need to spend the night here to get the all clear from doctors in the morning. 

People back home - hug your dogs and your parents, you don't know you lucky you are to have them close.