From the beginning of my Groton experience, I have been plagued by a cyclical and routinely-emerging common cold. This dreaded virus appears at the most inconvenient moments. I studied for all my third-form exams in a biohazardous room, at the end of the week I was sent home with Tylenol from the health center. I attribute my lacking salubrity to a weak immune system and the stark climate differences between my warm hometown and an icy Groton. 

The week of winter formal, this emaciating cat burglar struck again. 

It began with my roommate, Manon, who experienced a tingle in her throat and tumbled into a series of exponentially worse symptoms. She lasted 3 days before she sought the health center. For me, I was in the throes of a nightly headache and a fortified resolve to finish my homework. I, too, then surrendered myself to the health center only a day after my roommate. 

My trip to the health center was the best decision I could’ve made that week. I was diagnosed with the flu and given medication to combat the gamut of symptoms. Every ailment appeared to be tempered with the aid of Tylenol and Advil, but the virus wasn’t ready to raise its white flag just yet. The Saturday of winter formal, for the first time, I had a fever. Health center policy states that an individual who has a fever has to remain there for no less than 24 hours. Manon, suffering the same malady, and I were sent into a spiral. Despite our misfortune, Nurse Maureen struck a deal: if our fever reduced by 6pm, then the health center would release us. We were out by 5:30, and our marathon to get a spot in the busy showers of Ho’s dorm commenced.  

The location was decorated with streamers and balloons that shone underneath the purple luminescence of glittering lights. The strobing bass of music complimented the crushing jumps of the crowd and chaotic scramble for pictures. Formal was a memorable night, and an even more memorable afternoon.