It’s not what you think.
Definitely not the movie starring John Travolta. And it definitely has nothing to do with the Bee Gees’ song either.
It was the first thought that came to mind when I came down with high fever last night. I still have no idea what the cause of the fever was but before dinner, I had quite a tummy upset. I was due to have dinner with a friend and her husband, and there was no way I’d let a stomach ache get in between that.
So I went along anyway, despite the discomfort and uneasiness. Dinner at the Japanese restaurant, Rakuzen, had a waiting list of 15 minutes and within that time, I’d had gone to the ladies twice. I felt weak and dizzy but I pressed on. My friend and her husband were due to fly back to Roswell this Tuesday and my husband and I wanted to have this one last dinner with them before they left.
I even had time to purchase a couple of 0.1 Shachihata Artline Drawing System pens for my bullet journaling at MPH!
Eventually, we were called to the restaurant but by then, I was already reeling and a bit like a tipsy drinker on the borderline of actually being drunk. I relied heavily on the steaming hot mug of Japanese green tea to keep me sitting upright. Food arrived but I could only eat slowly and carefully, afraid that I would get heartburn if I ate too fast. We carried on having our spiritual conversation (our topic for the night), sharing stories and exchanging experiences.
We paid the bill, took a group photo and left for home. Dazed and disoriented, I sat in the front passenger seat while my husband took the wheel, we continued our conversation in the car. I listened more than I spoke for I was trying to stay awake. We reached the condo where my friend and her husband stayed with her parents while they were here in Malaysia for a month (which had passed since their arrival on June 4th. We climbed out of the car, hugged and exchanged pleasantries. There were more things to be said, all the while I was steadying myself with the car.
And then my husband and I left for our home.
By the time we got back, the clock showed 11:30pm. I had no strength left so I took to the bed. With my phones in hand, I lay down on my back wondering what was going on with me. By midnight, I had run a fever. Perhaps, I thought, some sleep would help me. I tried to sleep, almost didn’t, but I did in the end.
I was still sound asleep at 3:00am when my temperature hit 39 degrees. My body ached all over, as if I’d completed a high-intensity interval training with weights, and felt like it was on fire. I shivered under three layers of blankets in our air-conditioned bedroom. I hadn’t wanted to go back to sleep just yet, out of fear that I wouldn’t wake up the next day. Who knows how devastating high fevers can be.
Hot from my head to toe, I roused my husband to get me some Panadol. Two pills I popped but I couldn’t go back to sleep just yet. I’m a light sleeper, see. We talked a bit before I finally fell asleep at 5:00am. It could have been food poisoning that brought on the fever. But what had I eaten wrong, I have no idea.
Just before I fell asleep, I said to my husband: “I had Saturday night fever.”