"Sunday more or less repeated the events of Saturday. We drove up to Jones Creek and I hiked up that same mountain. Only this time I didn’t make it nearly as far as I had the day before. I was feeling sick, but mostly I was scared because I couldn’t figure out why I felt that way. Once in a while I even felt a little lightheaded. Giving up the climb, I turned around, retraced my steps down the hillside, and sat in the truck until Dad and Dan were ready to go home. I used the time to worry some more—not so much about my health as about how bad practice was going to be on Monday.
Monday came a lot faster than I wanted it to. As I got ready for school, Mom was still worried about me, but I told her I was feeling just fine. This wasn’t true; not only did I feel weak and miserable, I wasn’t sure if I felt strong enough to go through a hard practice that afternoon. She said, “Okay, but I want you to listen to me. If you don’t feel good enough to practice today, I want you to tell your coach, He’ll let you skip if you need to. The other thing is, if you don’t feel well in school, I want you to just come home.”
“Okay, Mom,” I answered, and headed off for school.
It was a long, slow walk; I didn’t have much energy and was extremely tired by the time I arrived. It was even harder to get through the day, because the only thing I could think about during my morning classes was practice that night. All my football buddies kept joking that we’d better be ready to sweat and puke that night, because they heard Coach Furno was still very angry about Friday’s loss. I observed somewhat wryly, “I don’t think I even need to go to practice to make me puke.” Dave Cone asked me whether I was going to skip practice on account of being sick. I told him I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want everyone to think I had skipped just because it was going to be a hard practice. He said he figured I had a pretty good reason to miss, and if it were he, he would take advantage of it."