one last trick

India pulled her final joke on me flying from Bagdogra back to Delhi. Waiting in the airport for my plane to get in I started to feel chilled and exhausted. As I hunched over in my plane seat--regretting that Indian airlines don't provide blankets like their trains do--I knew I must have a fever. And stumbling into my hotel seeking the best air conditioned room they had, I knew it must be a bad one.
After checking in, I collapsed onto my gratefully clean and airconditioned bed, and went into a semi-delirious sleep, forgetting until later to check my temperature (it would hold steady around 103.5 for the whole night) or take any medicine. I rose once around 9 PM to stumble into the hotel restaurant to buy a water bottle.
As morning rolled around, I realized I had some 12 hours until I had to be at the international airport and a fever that was still making me woozy. With little money left (I wanted to leave the country dead even), little minutes left on my phone left, a heavy bag, and 100 degree weather outside, I called Nick (a family friend who had stored my extra bag for the last couple weeks) and begged to crash at his apartment for the day. And that's what I did.
Arriving on a rickshaw that didnt give me change because I lacked the energy to insist on it, I collapsed onto a friendly expat's mattress for the next 5 hours. In the end the fever broke and I had time for one last dinner and swimming pool visit with Nick and his roomate before heading out.
But what a last day in the country. Oh, India what a bitch you can be. Oh, well. In the end, I got to the airport and THIRTY hours later (filled with a few BA red wines and the first real sandwich in monthes) I arrived back in sunny Colorado. Here I am, four days later, back home. And not a cow in sight.

Denver, United States