Don’t tell me that you’ve never been kicking along at a grueling pace with little supplies when you suddenly your hopes of fording the river are dashed by five of the most profound words in the English language. Yes, I mean these five words:
Let me start off by saying that I grew up with this game. I was playing it before I even knew where Oregon was (It’s right here just in case you didn’t know either). And I can honestly say that I bought wagon axles before I knew what an axle was (and to be honest, I still don’t know what a wagon tongue is, but I think it has something to go with this guy).
I remember booting up our School Computer Lab’s high-tech Apple IIe, and inserting Disk 1 of Oregon Trail (which, by the way can still be played here). Regardless of the fact that I died 9 out of 10 times (come on, I was like 6 years old), I would spend endless hours just trying to get to the point that I could float down the river in my floating Conestoga Wagon.
A few days ago, my childhood experience came full circle when I started having incredible pain in my lower abdomen. Being a Boldman, I figured that as long as I could stand, I didn’t need a doctor, so I carried on with normal life (which unfortunately involved participating in the tasting portion of a Chili Cook-off). Sure, I was still in pain 3 days later, but I figured that I kept calling it gas-pains, it would eventually go away.
I was very wrong.
When Tuesday night came around, I got to the point that it was uncomfortable (to say the least) to even stand, which by the International Boldman Standard (which I comepletely made up), it was time to head to the ER.
After waiting for a gut-wrenching (pun most certainly intended) hour and half, I finally convinced a Doctor that I was within minutes of death, which moved me up in the list of patients needing to get a CT Scan. Now that they could rule out appendicitis, I got a dose of reality that has been 19 years in the making… I had Salmonella/Shigella, which (for those of you who aren’t history / 80′s computer game buffs) is a fancy way to say:
I have dysentery.
Luckily for me, this is not 1848. I’m on a decent amount of medication, and I’ve changed my pace to steady (which is code for taking a few days off from work). But I fear that my wagon will soon run out of food. Here’s hoping that I survive long enough to find some wild fruit. If not, you’ll probably see me doing some of this before too long:
And, for those of you who might be genuinely concerned about my health, I’ll still be out of commission for a few days, I’m doing much better that I was on Tuesday thanks to modern medicine and my unbelievably beautiful wife.
First of all, let me state that: I knew of your plight from following along with your lovely wife and I am truly glad that you are now 100% better. But the truth that I take away from this post is simply this… You can still play Oregon Trail?!?!? No way! and Sign me up!!!!