I was so happy and excited that morning … so excited that my churning stomach ache, which had been killing me all morning, completely disappeared. Weeks ago I had only joked to my family about someday being at the University, meeting the water polo coach. The only ideas I had about going to the school were in my head, kept to myself. And now the coach is in front of me, giving me a tour of the pool and weight room. About an hour later, he kindly shakes my hand and says, “Carolyn, it was great getting to know you, and I hope you have an amazing time in the city.” I was almost finished thanking him for all of his time when an idea suddenly pops into his head and he excitedly says, “Wait! Walk with me.”  After unknowingly walking into a library-looking room, the coach tells me he is going to be introducing me to the team’s personal academic counselor. I realized then that I was an actual prospect in his eyes and he thought I was worth the counselor’s time, even for a minute. He showed me where to go and said, “I’ll wait out here until you’re done!” The academic counselor was the sweetest woman I had ever met, so I still feel badly about what happened.
When I stepped into her office, I thought I was dreaming. The walls spun a little bit, and my stomach aches returned. However, in my naïve thinking, I assumed I was just nervous. It did not matter to me though, because in less than one minute I was going to have a meeting with my future. Her warm and light office made me feel right at home as my dad and I sat down. She generously gave me brochures and asked insightful questions about my interest in the University. Then, suddenly, her words started to slur. I tried to hear what she was saying, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even read her lips because my eyes started fogging up with water. My eyelids felt heavy and sad, and they started crashing over my stinging eyes, no matter how hard I struggled to keep them open. My arms and legs felt hot, and I felt beads of sweat trickling down my face. I began to feel embarrassed, worrying if it was obvious that I was sweating. I took off my sweatshirt, finding my white t-shirt underneath sticking to my skin. Right then, I knew what was wrong.
My stomach dropped and I jumped out of the chair, embarrassingly yelling, “WHERE’S THE BATHROOM? I’M GOING TO BE SICK!” In a panic, the counselor screamed “Are you alright?” I was really worried that my stomach couldn’t wait and that I wouldn’t make it to the bathroom, so I ran out of her office as fast as I could. I looked to my left and saw the coach sitting in a chair looking at his phone, so I quickly ran in the opposite direction. I found the bathroom, and to spare the details, it is safe to say I was in there for a while. Five minutes later, I came back into Angie’s office paler than before, with my stomach cramping profusely. She graciously told me we should pick the meeting up another time, and she walked me out to meet the coach again. I was too embarrassed to say anything to him, so I just stood there, speechless, in fear that I would throw up again. I think he sensed that I was sick because he said “Are you okay? You’re looking a little blue.”  I awkwardly ended the tour and my dad drove me back to the hotel, where I continued the rest of my three-day stomach flu. I was petrified that my chances at the school of my dreams had literally gone down the drain and I was terrified to speak to the coach ever again. Surprisingly, after waiting a week to open up my email, I saw an email from the University, and found that the coach wanted to communicate more down the road and to watch me play this summer. I think the kindhearted counselor kept my secret, and I am incredibly thankful.