Bowling and the Flu

When I was a kid, from the ages of 10-13, I believe, my family and I would go to family camp at Pillsbury Baptist Bible College.

During the day, and especially since I was younger, we got to do the fun stuff: field trips, fun activities, going off campus to different locations (all code phrases for field trips). Our leaders were twin sisters who were a TON of fun and awesome at finding great ways to kill time in between activities.

One day, the activity was bowling. I've never really cared for bowling, but there was no way I'd get out of going...not that I was going to try to. I hadn't reached my rebellious phase yet, plus I had a healthy fear of authority and of making people mad (okay, so anyone who knew/knows me knows that only came/comes sporadically).

That day, however, I woke up with a terrible pain in my stomach (I would later learn it was something called the stomach flu, which I didn't remember ever having before), so I had even less of a desire to eat, ride in a crowded, loud van, talk to people, bowl, or do anything that didn't involve laying perfectly still. I didn't get sick often, so I didn't know how to handle the pain I was feeling. And that's either because I got sick big time when I was a kid (scarlet fever and chicken pox were the main ones), so my immune system was hardcore, or because I was kept in a bubble and away from all germs and bacteria. I don't remember ever being confined like that, so I guess I'm gonna have to go with the first option.

On the way to the bowling alley, I remember sitting in the van as close to the window as I could. I just sat with my cheek pressed against the glass, trying desperately not to move at all.
You know the feeling right before you need to throw up?
All the saliva that suddenly just FLOODS your mouth?
Yeah, I wasn't used to that and didn't realize what it meant, so I just kept swallowing frantically because I thought that's what you're supposed to do. Also because I thought it meant I was dying and I didn't want to die that day (to be clear: I still don't know how to handle that).

So we got there and I don't remember doing any bowling at all. I sat very still, without moving, on one of those impossibly uncomfortable twirly chairs. The field trip took about 17 years, it felt. (I don't remember enough about anything else we did there, except bowl. So that's all I have to say about it.)

17 years later, we left...only to go to a restaurant. McDonald's, probably. It was such a torturous trip! I just wanted to go to bed!

Finally.
Finally.
Finally.
We got back to campus.
I don't remember saying anything to anyone, I just booked it back to my dorm room so I could lay down.

I climbed up onto the top bunk (which, in hindsight, I shouldn't have done), laid down, then promptly leaned over and threw up onto the floor.
Then I fell asleep.

My mom came in the room after their session or activity or date or musical dance number (I have no idea what the adults did during the day), took one look at the floor and said, "Oh, EMILY! This is so gross!" (I don't remember her exact words...)

Then she got a mop and cleaned it up.

And I was back to the field trips/fun activities/going off campus to different locations by the next day.
It was just like a fairy tale!
Just kidding, it sucked, and having the stomach flu is the worst.

But I'm a survivor.