So, at 7:28 this morning, we stood at our bus stop. I was feeling nauseous, but what else is new? We caught a bus to downtown Salt Lake. It was NOT the bus number Scott gave me in my original directions, but apparently it was the right bus (see, without Scott I would have been lost before I even stepped foot off the curb). It was going straight to UofU and we considered that a miracle, because it would only take 30min instead of 60. Plus, I was grateful that the bus was warm.
And then the bus started to move. And by move I mean bounce all over the place. And by that I mean my stomach was bouncing all over the place. And I knew that my little pregnant nausea was actually in real trouble of showing it's nasty face to everyone on that bus. And that warmth of the bus suddenly became a sauna and I was tearing off my scarf and hat and gloves.
So I took a few deep breaths.
And some more deep breaths.
Scott kept saying: "We're almost there! We're almost there!"
Then I told him to ask the bus driver for a garbage can or a plastic bag. The bus driver snapped that he didn't have throw-up bags. But I saw his little trash can and just when I was about to take full advantage of it, we came to a bus stop. Desperate for fresh air, I leaped off the bus and threw up on the side of the sidewalk. Of course, there was a lady in a wheelchair getting on the bus meaning people were watching me the entire time she was slowly loaded. They saw my whole fiasco from beginning to end and it was not pretty.
Luckily, the bus stop I had spontaneously got off at was right next to the Trax system and the next ride was directly to where I needed to go. Another miracle. Although that 5min ride didn't help me out one bit, I made it.
I made it to my class. I didn't hear a ton of what was said because I was exhausted but I made it in time.
What a miracle, eh?