When I was little and would get sick, I could always count on a few things. My mom would make up a bed for me on the couch, get me meds when I needed them, and fetch me water or 7up to keep the fluids going. When I would wake up in the middle of the night crying because my head was throbbing, she would eventually hear me and come to my room. She'd get me more Tylenol and rub my back while I tried to fall back asleep.

Those were the days, and those days are gone.

Now when I'm sick, I lay on the couch and try to tolerate my throbbing head because I feel too awful to get up and take medicine. At night, I crawl into bed, shivering, with no hope of my mom being right down the hall to get me something or to just be there for comfort's sake if I were to call out.

But I do have a roommate who, despite being sick herself, will get me water when I ask. And I know I'll eventually end up getting her a beer or something, too. What a cushy set-up.