Day 7 December 11, Friday
An hour after I went to bed I woke up with the chills. I put an extra blanket on the bed but it didn’t help much. Barking dogs woke me up again. About four in the morning the digestive explosions began.
I did manage to take a shower, wash my hair and go to breakfast. When I told Warren, our group leader, at breakfast, that I wasn’t feeling well, he insisted that I at the hotel today for two reasons: to rest and so I wouldn’t spread my stomach bug to others.
At first I thought I wasn’t contagious because I figured the stomach upset was from the mint leaves, probably unwashed, that were in the mojito I drank except that I didn’t have the stomach pain that usually goes with that kind of illness. I hope it’s only a 24-hour bug. I do have Cipro with me if it continues.
I asked Ginny to work with the students, Mayla and Teresa, that I worked with yesterday.
So I lay down in bed, wrote in this journal, read the Leonardo Padura detective novel set in Havana, and listened to music on my phone.
When Ginny came back in the afternoon she reported that neither of my students had shown up for tutoring. Ginny was good enough to get some white rice from the hotel kitchen for me.
So I stayed in bed all day, sick as a dog, with chills, diarrhea, and a cough. I took the Cipro, acetemetaphin and Zyrtec and laid back and listened to the Billy Joel, Simon and Garfunkel and Phoebe Snow that lulled me into oblivion.