I don’t know where that expression came from. “One sick pup”. I actually don’t know if it’s even considered an expression, or if it’s just another made up phrase that my parents used while I was growing up. They did make up a lot of expressions those two. What I do know, is that whenever I did something either crazy, gross, or both, my parents would follow with “boy you are one sick pup!” (Obviously, they weren’t referring to me being physically sick, but more so mentally).
A few weeks ago, however, that is exactly what I was.
I was out of commission for a week, one of those days finally giving in and calling out of work. Since I am not really great at taking days and doing “nothing”, I decided to take on an achievable apartment task. I decided I’d paint my living room, like I have wanted to do for months. Painting is so relaxing too. So I put on a nice Dave Matthews playlist, and painted my bedroom and one wall of the living room. What I should have realized was the 95 degree weather, stomach bug, open paint cans, & poor ventilation wasn’t about to mix well. An hour into the painting I felt so sick, that you can see the story unfold on my living room wall. You see where the effort was, and where I started going downhill (like how I painted right over the light switch, which I believe you are supposed to avoid doing). I actually don’t even remember the end of that paint job, as I quickly started fading. I practically crawled into my room as soon as I managed to finish and set myself up in bed in time for 4pm Oprah. My roommate comes home from work around 5pm to find me in bed holding my head and laying upside-down moaning in pain. There was head pressure, nose pressure, body aches, a not so attractive cough, and the feeling I was going to get sick which came in waves every 12 minutes or so. But this story wouldn’t be worth sharing if I was just going to tell you how sick I was. Nah. The story gets good now (at least I think) because I still managed to have a great evening.
Part of being sick on a Friday night includes canceling your Friday night plans. Mine for that night was supposed to involve my friend Lilia, and a pair of salsa dancing high heels on my feet in a bar/restaurant downtown to a live band. I was so. Bummed. I didn’t want to cancel, but there really was no way I was making it past my living room couch. After making the dreaded call to mi amiga, I was thrilled to hear she didn’t care about going out and was going to stop over and visit me instead! A few hours later, when she arrived at my apartment, there was a bag of goodies on her arm. There was Theraflu, Tylenol sinus, a giant yellow Gatorade (which is all I want to drink when I am sick. I don’t know why, childhood habit I suppose) and vegetables. Vegetables, because Lilia came over to make me homemade vegetable soup from scratch. How did I get so freaking lucky!? She said when she heard my voice on the phone; she knew I was in bad shape, and that there was no way I’d be dancing that night. So, there we were; two chicas, in a tiny kitchen, on a hot summer Friday night uptown. A can of vegetable broth, potatoes, carrots, & celery with a cup (or 2) of water simmered on the stove top as I ate crackers and drank the Gatorade. As always, the ipod provided the tunes and even though I was a sick pup, I was pretty happy. Lilia owned the kitchen, walking around finding spices and randomly pinching a little of this and a little of that into the pot. In the end, we added whole wheat angel hair pasta to it, with salt, pepper, & a lot of love of course. :) This soup took 35 minutes from start to finish & was made with no recipe on paper. Lilia is a talented lady, but we can definitely all do this soup! Also, I am crediting it as my cure to that horrible illness I had all week. The soup was a real life miracle. I felt relief as soon as I tasted it.
I love vegetables. I love music. & I love Lilia. I also love feeling better. And when I can remember the list of “stuff” she threw into that pot, I will compile it and post it on this blog so you can make at home for your best friend, or love when they are not feeling well. So check back for it under “recipes”. In the words of Jerry Springer, “take care of yourself. And each other”.
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