This week has been an emotional doozy.
Tuesday I woke up at 5 in the morning to attend my first in-kitchen class. Meat Fabrication. As I pulled on the traditional uniform of the chef I humored myself by comparing my reflection in the mirror to Rocky. A chef uniform takes away any feminine shape or characteristics one might have. I jotted on some eye liner to remind myself that I was indeed a woman and not a famous boxer in the movies.
When I trudged up the slight slope under the still persistent moon, I was terrified. Horror stories are always told about chefs and their....volume, when you make the same mistakes, over and over. I was convinced I would make some horrid mistake and be told to leave on my first day. Also, classes are quite different at the CIA than in other universities. Instead of having so many classes on alternating days for...oh about an hour or 2 a day, you have one class, 3 weeks, 6 hours a day. I was dreading standing up in a freezing room for 6 hours knowing nothing about what I should do.
Nothing could be more different than my prediction. First of all, my chef calmly, persistently, and patiently taught me every cut I needed to make into my top blade of beef. As we moved on to something much more bigger, an entire beef shoulder, I felt empowered. I felt I could do anything, if I could break down this huge piece of meat, and I did quite successfully. After our 4 hours of hands on, chef called timed and clean up began. A sinking in my heart followed, I wanted to yell out at the chef, asking him to give me one more shoulder to practice yet, four hours could NOT have passed by. I pulled it together and helped the team-ironically all friends of mine- clean and hike our 5 flights of stairs to the lecture room for 2 hours of in-class teaching. I could not wipe the smile off of my face. Me and my class mates kept repeating about how much fun our first kitchen class was and how we looked forward to tomorrow.
Wednesday did not disappoint but my throat gave a familiar uncomfortable itch. Trying to kill the bugger before it got as bad as last time I went to the nurse to just be assured that I should gurgle with salt water (which I did) and wait it out. I woke up Thursday feeling worse and nothing at all like the first time I got sick. I was nauseous and week and passed on breakfast. In class I asked Chef to excuse me to the nurse when I was afraid I might faint. The nurse....told me the exact same thing and to lie down. I lie down for ten minutes, then return to class, determined not to miss class! Chef, kind man, asked if I was alright and that if I needed to take a day off I could. I assured chef I would rather be in class and if I felt weak again I would sit down. I cube my veal shank and slowly move about my day, still happy that I'm there. After class I make it back to the nurse to meet with the Nurse Practitioner. He runs me through all normal rountine that I have been before, and tests me for strep- for the 3rd time. It comes out negative-again. He writes a prescription and sends me on my way.
Now in the pharmacy I loose any professional control I had. My body has not deteriorated down to pain and exhaustion. I can barely talk and fever strikes my body into chills. I put in for my prescription and asks the woman if I can pay with a credit card over the phone (like most college students I have no money and resort to asking my parents for money). She says yes, I call my father for the card information, and sit down for a good 20 minutes waiting for a total of 6 pills. When my name is finally called, I can barely speak and they refuse to take a credit card over the phone. I start sobbing in store because of the combination of stress, pain, and anger. Luckily my mess made the pharmacy make an exception and I was on my way.
Friday I wake up, sicker than I have been all week, and loose any solid foods in my system. I collapse on my bed, text my class mates that I will not make it to class, and fall asleep until noon. Luckily again, Chef understands. I make an appointment to discuss how I can make up my hands on learning and I start on my homework friends have emailed to me. My symptoms are flu like, and nothing like what I had the first time.
Saturday I do nothing but sleep and drink. I call in sick for the food and wine festival I was so excited to work and ask a friend to fill in for me. I feel so much better today, I only have a stuffed up nose and annoying cough. Maybe tomorrow it will be gone and Monday I can enjoy my last few days of a class that has brought me the most joy.
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