That Time I Got Flea Typhus
Yeah, the kind from the Oregon trail.
Oh my silly gooses, you are in for a treat today. When I started Field Notes from a Silly Goose, my whole plan was to finally share the inner workings of cabin life, the REAL stories, the inappropriate antics, the shit I can’t put on the world wide web without some randos coming into my comments and pissing me off (we love a paywall to keep out the riff raff).
In keeping with our theme this week of being sick out here sucks, today you are getting a true taste of just how unhinged my life truly is out here and how akin it is to the Oregon Trail.
Let me set the scene first. It’s December 2022 and I am feeling off. Not sick per se, just off. My appetite wasn’t right—and I’m a good Greek girl who can EAT. I felt a bit lethargic and just not fully of this world. It’s hard to explain, but something wasn’t right.
At first, I thought it was just that I wasn’t eating well enough and chalked it up to needing to stock up on healthy, but easy to put together food options so I could fuel my days and feel better. I was working a ton because it was my busy season for work. Also, Noodle, my beloved elderly dachshund and first husband, had unexpectedly passed away and I just was not in a good place mentally. I put together a silly little list and headed out to the grocery store to restock the fridge.
After I got back, I immediately got my fire going and tucked into my new assortment of goodies. Here’s the selfie I sent my best friend Danielle (she’s important in this story, but also in general). Clearly, morale was high.
And by “morale was high,” what I really mean is that halfway through eating the banana, I had to sprint across the house to the bathroom and immediately got sick. It was December 5th and the last time I ate for 16 days.
