Both my husband and I woke up feeling ill. I continued my life as a college student who had homework to do and a mother to a newly potty-trained toddler. Jimmy, on the other hand, realized that his life was on the line, I thought at one point that he had been shot. It became clear to me that his stomach virus was much worse than mine. How do you operationalize such a thing? I will tell you how:
If you are walking around and functioning as you were the day before and the other person is not able to even put a diaper on a child, you are not the same kind of sick.
If you are walking, and the other person is spread-eagle in the middle of the floor, you are not the same kind of sick.
If you do not want to eat and the other person does not either, you are not the same kind of sick, because one of you will eat six scoops of ice cream, and drink a 12 ounce can of Mountain Dew, and later violently vomit it all. Yes, this is the person that you thought could have died earlier in the day. I know what you are thinking, but I do not care much for Mountain Dew.
The next day in my Medical Sociology class, seriously, the next day, we learned that "women get sicker, but men die quicker." The lecture was about how a man is more likely to die from a disease than a woman.
Thank you, uterus, thank you.
**The uterus, mine at least, has been added to the March of the Tools. Sorry, no pictures, you enter "uterus" in Google Images on your own, I am a bit scarred, which I thought was practically impossible.