I've had to liken myself to John Hurt's character in Aliens, of late. I've been generously hosting something parasitic for over a week. At first, I mused that perhaps a cranky waitress in Mui Ne had drugged my food. But since the little beast has reared its head again upon arrival in Cambodia, striking Ed too, I'm pretty sure it was something we ate. Or, more likely, the lack of sanitation, refrigeration, and hand washing in Vietnam.
Last night I finally called my Moms, read her the labels of the prescriptions our doc gave us before we left, and started on the good stuff. We were supposed to see the sunrise at Angkor Wat this morning, but decided to put it off, since we weren't sure hiking around the jungle with a fever was going to be the most enjoyable way to experience the majesty of the temple ruins.
Being sick while traveling is the pit stains. Its not like at home, when being really knocked out meant staying home from work, blackberry on the coffee table, watching DVR'd TV and napping. Away, its postponing the fun times we're meant to be having, confinement to a hotel room and 4 English speaking channels, and trips outside in 95 degree heat to pick up strange food (note to SE Asia - PLEASE stop putting sugar in our coffee when we ask for no sugar. I know you think its gross to drink it black, but the good news is you don't have to drink it, I do. When it tastes like a coffee-flavored dum-dum, I have to throw it away). That said, considering neither of us has been sick for more than a day or two since leaving, I'd say we've been pretty lucky and were about due.
On the upside, staying in last night gave me the opportunity to view some high quality movie entertainment. Have y'all seen "Wanted?" Most absurd and absurdly watchable action flick I've watched in ages. I'm even coming around on that James McEvoy. Ah, the healing powers of cinema. Or, was it the antibiotics kicking in...
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