I want my mommy!
I will never ever forget what it was like the first time I was really sick in China.
There I am, stranger in a strange land. It's the first week I've gotten there, I'm still not even sure of the name of the school I'm at, and I have very limited contact with the outside world. And what happens? I get sick. I get deathly sick, with the worst cold ever in the history of ever.
I'm an adult, and have been living out of the house since I graduated from high school about a million years ago. I hate getting sick (because so many people like it), but for the most part I can cope.
I did not cope with being sick that first time in China. I wanted my mother so damned bad that I called my parents up (collect, internationally, because my parents love me and just take that sorta thing) and my mother thought I was my brother when I called. I was that sick.
So, here I am in Scotland, and for the first time since getting here, I'm sick. It's a cold, again, because it's always a cold. And I want my mother to make it all better. (This time, not so much with the long distance calling, because it is rather pointless. She's not going to make me chicken soup in Canada.)
I actually wrote a big thing about dealing with culture shock when you first get to China (it's at China Teachers, if you want to read it), and the big thing I discuss is letting yourself and your body adjust slowly. And that means letting yourself be sick, taking the time to get over it, and let yourself feel sorry for yourself that your mom (or dad, or signifigant person) isn't there to make it all better.
I think I'll take my advice.