Oh hey, St.Patty

As a very proud Irish girl I prepared for St.Patty's day for weeks. I had class until 4:40 and then it was time to make my ancestors proud. I bought my ticket for the Get Lucky dance at the Phoenix two weeks in advance, and dropped some serious bank on a new green-liscious outfit. My guess is that being a broke starving college student, I have a very different definition of "serious bank" than others, but put yourself in my financial state and I promise you will understand the pain I feel each time I hand a sales associate my pink hello kitty debit card. As the day of my people came closer, I got more and more excited. As the beginning of the week approached I could barely contain my excitement. Not having any Monday classes, I spent my Monday at my friends house writing a paper we had due the next morning, and left around 10 happy and ready for a late night adventure with my roommates. I crawled into bed around 3 AM knowing I had begun my week on a great note. Then it happened.
            5 AM rolled around I sprung out of bed and made a mad dash for my bathroom. Something, a lot of something, was coming up. I will spare the details and just explain that I woke up on my bathroom floor about 12 hours later with the chills, body aches, and according to my nifty digital thermometer a fever of 101.5. Just my luck that my roommates were all out at the time, so I texted all of them demanding tylonel and company. Two minutes later my hero was standing over me with water and tylonel in hand. When she turned the light on it was as if there was a halo on her head and a hallelujah chorus praising her presence. However, I quickly began to resent her when she looked down at me, told me I looked like crap and insisted on taking me to the emergency room. Going to the ER meant walking to her car, a function I did not feel capable of. After the slowest and longest walk of my life, followed by sleeping in her car we arrived at the Petaluma Valley Hospital Emergency Room. I was poked and prodded and constantly told how horribly sick and pale I looked. 7 hours, 2 IV bags, 5 pills, and 2 doctors later I was back in my own bed. Being the responsible patient that I am all I could think about was Thursday night.

             Wednesday morning rolled around and I told myself it was all psychological, if I said I was okay and acted as if I was okay, I would be okay. Obviously that worked out real well for me, because I slept the day away and was sent home from the one class I tried to attend. Before I knew it, it was here. St. Patty's Day, this is not a drill, I repeat this is not a drill, the real thing had finally arrived. I was ready. I had the outfit, I had every minute of my day mapped out, I was about to make this day my b*tch. Apparently some higher power thought that my weeks of preparation were just not enough, because next thing I knew I was sick as a dog and my roommate was dragging me back to the all too familiar Petaluma Valley Hospital. After what felt like a lifetime, another 2 IV bags, endless visitors, and more pills the doctor arrived. Behind him were the two people I least expected to see , I knew the shoes before their faces were even in site and as my jaw dropped to the ground they began to laugh endlessly. They knew what shock I was in. I sent the much needed "hide everything" text to my roommate who had stayed behind, and looked up to find my parents standing over me. Hoping it was a hallucination I squeezed my eyes shut just to hear that familiar "Melissa Leanne what are you doing?"
           HOW WAS THIS HAPPENING? what did I do to deserve this kind of St.Patty's Day? What was supposed to be the best day of the month was turning into a nightmare. After being released I had to stay behind while my friends partied and went to the dance. I despised and resented each one of them for leaving me in bed on my 36 hour all water diet. Although the night was not a total waste, two of my friends who had opted not to go out stayed with me and we may or may not have pulled some amazing pranks in the party goers rooms and cars. If any questions were asked, we plead the fifth.