Springtime is often viewed as a time for renewal. A time for a fresh start. An opportunity to shed the heaviness of winter. During my sophomore year of college, however, I associated springtime with feeling miserable. Spring was the semester when, unfortunately, I came down with a case of mononucleosis. While mono is known as “the kissing disease,” scientifically speaking, I am quite certain I contracted it from sharing drinks with my friends. Sharing drinks was something that my mother had warned me not to do for as long as I can remember. I’m sure that she’s probably still quietly saying “I told you so” all these years later.
Be that as it may, there are few things in life worse than being sick. In fact, I’d rank sore throats as one of biology’s most evil forms of natural torture. But having an extended illness in college taught me a life lesson that has stuck with me: when you don’t have your health, you realize what things are most important and meaningful to focus on. Particularly when you have a limited amount of strength to draw from.
Here’s my story…
Running on empty
Although I don’t want to jinx myself, I’ve generally been a very healthy person throughout the first half century of my life. Sure, I’ve had some colds, that awful case of the stomach flu, and some other annoying injuries. But nothing I’ve ever had amounted to anything serious or potentially debilitating. That is, except for mono.
Now, anyone who’s been to college knows that, for most, it’s a social time. My days revolved around classes and studying, while the nights (though not all of them!), revolved around going out. College was the ultimate test for how well you could balance your priorities. And after working through some minor time management kinks during my freshman year, I’d gotten a pretty good handle on how to manage my student life and my social life by the middle of sophomore year.
But one day, I woke up feeling incredibly tired. Not the “Ugh, I really should’ve gotten more sleep” kind of tired. Tired as in, “I don’t know if I have the energy to get out of bed.” I also had a fever and that dreaded sore throat. Assuming I had the flu, strep throat, or something similar, I decided it was smart for me to stay home. Because I am a rule follower, and also because I was amazing at creating my schedules, I never felt the need to skip classes. I was always worried about missing something important. And even though I was legitimately too sick to go to classes, I didn’t want to fall behind. So, I’d asked some friends to cover for me in my big lecture classes. The other professors for my smaller, seminar classes granted me some slack when I told them I was horribly ill.
After getting something bland to eat and stocking up on liquids, I took a nap. This is something I hadn’t done since I was a toddler. I tried to rationalize that whatever I had wasn’t serious. I’d probably be fine by the weekend. So, I took it easy for the next few days, having faith in my trusty immune system. “Go to he(l)lth, mono,” I wanted to scream.
It’s all Greek to me
I was hoping my condition would improve in a couple of days. After all Sig Ep (ΣΦΕ for all you Greek lovers), one of my favorite fraternities, was having a big party that Saturday night. While most of the fraternity parties I went to all seemed to follow the same formula of dim lights, cheap beer, and throbbing music, I always held out hope that maybe this next party would be different. Or perhaps, this would be the night I’d find my future husband. (Note: do not expect to find a long-term life partner at a fraternity house that reeks of sweat and beer, nor where drinks are served in red Solo cups. Though if it’s happened to you, you have my heartfelt congratulations.)
On Friday morning, I felt worse. Despite excessive hydration over the past several days, I didn’t feel any improvement by the evening. Knowing that it probably was a bad idea to go out, even for a short time, I decided to stay home. Ugh. My friends offered to hang out with me in the dorm, but I encouraged them to enjoy themselves. What if they were going to meet their future spouses that night? As for me, I had a pint of ice cream and a movie on my evening’s schedule. Though I didn’t say it out loud, I was hoping that some handsome guy harbored a secret crush on me, would notice I wasn’t at the party, then come to my dorm room and reveal his affections for me. Sadly, I was living in Binghamton, and not a romantic comedy script that came to life. And so, I spent the night in an eerily quiet dorm room. In addition to feeling miserable from being sick, I also felt a little lonely. What if this was the party of the century?
I had no choice but to believe my friend’s reports, which indicated I hadn’t missed out on anything major (or minor). Worst of all, I still didn’t feel any better. First thing Monday morning, I decided it was time to go to the Health Center. After hearing my symptoms, they gave me a blood test.
The results came back clear: I had mono. What the he(l)lth?
Don’t cry over spilled milk
Here I was, one week away from spring break and I was stuck with mono. I felt shot to he(l)lth.There was (and still is) no cure for mono other than time, hydration, and rest. And, for me, those three things translated into not playing sports, drinking alcohol, or doing anything strenuous for the next three to four weeks. Not to be overly dramatic, but for an active college student like I was, this was the absolute worst prognosis. I wasn’t sure which of the three prohibitions was worse. But you only have one spleen and one liver, and I didn’t want either to burst. You can only imagine the kinds of nightmares I had worrying about my organs exploding. (Though I will clarify, the kindly Health Clinic doctor had very clearly used the word “rupture” when describing what could happen if I didn’t follow her recommendations.)
Thank goodness I’d have a full week of coddling from my mother, my own bedroom, and twenty-four hour catering to look forward to.
But until I went home, with no appetite and no energy, the chocolate drink Yoo-hoo was the only thing I could tolerate. For countless days, it became my predominant source of nutrition. Turns out, though fortified with some vitamins and minerals, Yoo-hoo is basically chocolate water. Nevertheless, to this day, I still think of Yoo-hoo as “mono milk.”
And for that next week before Spring Break, my priorities were simple: make it to class and then make it back to bed. I’ve always been a work-at-a-desk kind of person. With mono, my workspace was my bed. I desperately wanted to feel better but there was literally nothing I could do. It would take weeks for the mono to work its way out of my body. And that’s if I was lucky.
Instead of organizing my free time around social engagements, my days focused on how long I could make it out of bed before I ran out of energy. Plus, I also needed to plan for restocking my endless Yoo-hoo consumption. I didn’t think about anything else but my subsistence.
Being sick was a living he(l)lth.
Making the grade
It’s safe to say that the spring semester of my sophomore year was one of the lowest points of my college experience. I only had enough stamina to keep up with my schoolwork (barely), and that was about it. I have no idea how my GPA didn’t drop, but I’ll give credit to my friends who shared their notes with me and the kindly professors who gave me a pass for the week I was out.
And while I’m doling out compliments, I’ll also myself a pat on the back for being diligent and determined not to let myself down even when my body failed me. Come he(l)lth or high water, I wasn’t going to crumble because of mono.
Having mono gave me a unique perspective as a young adult. Rather than concentrating on things like how I looked, what my weekend plans were, or finding a boyfriend, my life revolved around just making it through each day. Survival trumped superficial needs. I felt like I’d been to he(l)lth and back.
While I eventually made a full recovery—and none of my organs exploded—having mono helped me put my priorities in order. At least for the four weeks until I’d fully recovered. Did I go right back to thinking about how I looked, what my weekend plans were, and how I was going to attract a boyfriend? Yes. But, I also realized that those were nice-to-have concerns.
Your health is the basis for everything in life. So, take good care of your body. And for goodness sakes, do not share drinks!
Do you recall any childhood memories that had a strong impact on you later in life? Please share your stories with me in the comments section.
