I didn't sing today. In fact, I stayed home in bed. I made beans and ham and got up every half hour to stir it, but I knew something wasn't right in me. Toward the end of the game this evening I felt my fever spiking, and that's a really bad sign. To tell the truth, I want to go to the hospital. Mom thinks I should wait till tomorrow and go to the doctor. Dad says since I was fine during the game I must not be *that* sick--and they can always put off the surgery. (Let's not even go there!) Nobody is listening to me, and I don't know how to make them. Dad gave me an ice pack and told me to go to bed. Ok, that makes sense, but besides the issue of surgery I am finally dog tired of being sick! Last time I went to the hospital with this stuff it was by force. They gave me breathing treatments every four hours and megadoses of super antibiotics. And believe it or not, I wasn't sick for another three years, until we moved here. And I've been sick too many times to count since then, and I want it over already. I know my body, and something is wrong and nobody is listening. 101 isn't that high, but it is for me and especially when it shoots up.