I am sick.

Dear Mom,
Today I am sick. Cerrita has been sick for day days, and spent the yesterday intermittently loosing her stomach. Gross. Sorry, but still! She is a trooper and has somehow managed to get out of bed and work for 12+ hrs a day. This morning I must have sounded and looked how I felt because the instant that I hear my usual week day morning greeting (Cerrita is a goober and loves to wake me up with over the top nicknames like puddin', sunshine, buttercup, and the like because she knows how much I have mornings and would rather make me laugh / disarm any potential grumpiness) and I heard "oh, you've got it now" from my love. NOT AWESOME. So....my day has since proceeded as such:

Drive car back home after dropping off Cerrita. Forcing eyes awake and air in and out of lungs through any acceptable passage way. Sip coffee, watch weather, whine to Cerrita about how I am feeling. Take a blazing how shower (Cerrita's advice) and clear the above mentioned passageways only to feel light headed and not a bit better. Sleep until 8am. Put on sports bra and kicks and head to tri-weekly bootcamp. Worrying if I will make it there let alone make it through the 45 min workout. Sudden burst of energy as I finish some gum and water. (not olympic burst but still an "i'm a wake holy shit, let's do this" burst). I get through the work out! I feel ok leaving, not wiped, but damn near exhausted enough. I call Cerrita. update. She is still getting sick at work. Expects me to be happy it was only once. Not happy. I worry about her more than myself even when i've recently contracted her plague. Yes. this is a plague. No, mom, this is not over-dramatics from skating leaping into and infesting my real life :) OK a little. but aghhhhh. I can't help it.

My head feels like a ton of bricks, my jaw is sore, my lips are cracking from the Hey Arnold style breathing, and my body feels like a bruised Georgia peach all over. In an effort to to find some comfort 9while still sticking to my workout / diet regimen) I grabbed a popsicle from the freezer. I had purchased them for Cerrita the night prior when she was loosing everything and about ready to loose some major organs next. The flavor I grabbed without looking was root beer and I instantly, and aways, think of you. I still remember vividly the night before and the morning after my first ever major surgery for the removal of my tonsils and adenoids. I was 3. You were an RN. It was two days before christmas. You couldn't watch them stick me with the needle for my fluids because you knew how much it hurt me. I couldn't let go of your hand. You became a nurse for second on top of being my mom and talked me through the next part because this was the part where "Mom can't go through those doors, but I know the secret of what they do, so this is what is going to happen" and toldme about everything from sleeping gas, to how to help the doctors roll me onto the operating table and how the best patients keep a smile on even when they are scared. I did it all and I came out just fine. Save being quite sore. You were as worried as you'd be if i had just had heart surgery. You said I could have anything i wanted to make my throat feel better. I requested "root beer popsicles." On the ride home we stopped at the store. At home I opened my very own, all root beer flavored, box of popsicles. Ate one...maybe two. and feel asleep. Now that I'm 24, and not three, I'll have you know that you are STILL a very large part of my life, whether or not I choose to share these memories out loud. This one is a favorite. We were both pretty cute, charming, and sweet.

I miss you. I love you. Keep an eye one me.

Love,
Ashley