Sick December: Fever, Feels, and PG Blues

December hit differently this year chilly vibes, cold breeze, and me in a PG, away from my mom for the first time.  Think again. This wasn’t your Hallmark winter. This was sick December. And I mean sick in the worst way possible fever, sneezes, homesickness, and a desperate craving for mom's magical cure-all rasam.  

It all started with the weather. One day, I’m feeling like the main character in a cozy winter novel, and the next, I’m curled up under  blankets, shivering like I’m auditioning for a disaster movie. The PG air? Dry. The food? Meh. The comfort? Non-existent.  

You know what they don’t tell you about being sick in a PG? No one pampers you. At home, my mom would’ve already wrapped me in a blanket burrito, brought steaming soup, and sat beside me, asking a million times if I was feeling better. Here? Nada. I was my own nurse, doctor, and emotional support system.  

Every moment felt heavier without mom’s familiar voice scolding me for not wearing socks or drinking enough hot water. The homesickness? It hit hard. Every spoonful of bland PG food reminded me of her spicy curries, and every lonely hour made me miss her nagging about my messy room. Funny how you start appreciating the things you once rolled your eyes at.  

The fever wasn’t just in my body; it seeped into my mood. I felt stuck physically weak and emotionally drained. Even the weather seemed to mock me, with icy winds and overcast skies adding to the gloom.  

But here’s the twist: I survived. Somehow, between self-pity, endless naps, and downing liters of warm water, I made it through. My friends chipped in bringing me hot tea, taking me to the hospital. A special shoutout to Nitish and Veena who exclusively took care of me when I felt like  the loneliest person on the planet. Slowly, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I could handle this whole “adulting” thing.  

Sick December taught me something being homesick is okay. It’s human. It’s a sign of love and connection. But it also showed me I’m tougher than I thought. Even in a fever-induced haze, I managed to pull through messy, exhausted, but stronger.  

Next time December rolls around, I’ll be extra cautious and if I survived this, I can survive a lot more.  

So here’s to Sick December: the month that tested me, broke me a little, but left me feeling weirdly proud ?

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