CHISTYAKOV: Grin and bear it

Coming from a Russian family, I have learned to always be a fighter. This value was especially stressed whenever I developed an illness. I was taught to fight it for as long as I could with only hot soup, tea and Tylenol Extra Strength. Going to the doctor was one of the last resorts, especially since all of the better doctors were located in Beverly Hills. Besides, I felt very comfortable trying to overcome an illness in my bed, watching movies on my computer and having my dad around to make sure nothing got out of hand.

Getting sick in college for the first time was quite a struggle for me after my past experiences with illness. When I first woke up with a fever, I didn’t know what to do about it. At home, it seemed like I had an infinite amount of medicine at my disposal and my dad always knew which one to give me. But in my dorm, all I have is my Tylenol and Dayquil. When the symptoms didn’t disappear that night, I began to freak out. I constantly called my dad, asking what I needed to do to get rid of my fever, consistently checking my temperature. I didn’t know what medicines to get, who to call or how to act. And to make matters worse, when I went to tell my Resident Assistant about the situation, he tells me that since all of the doctors are off on the weekend, my only option would be to take a cab to the emergency room or get transported there.

Stressed and sick, I locked myself in my room over the weekend and tried to battle the sickness as best as I could. Sleeping in my dorm bed did not give me the same feeling of comfort as sleeping in my own bed. Although I could watch the same movies on Netflix as I would at home, it didn’t give me the same reassurance. And the one person I needed the most (other than my doctor) was back in Los Angeles emailing me natural remedies to rid me of my illness. Even though my friends came into my room every now and then to check up on me, it wasn’t the same kind of help that my dad could have given me. And even a check-up from some friends wasn’t sufficient enough, since what I really needed was a check-up from some kind of doctor and none were available on the weekend.

After a few days, I suddenly began to feel better. I was amazed that I actually found a cure for my illness, which was probably just a common cold (even though I braced myself for the worst, such as the flu). I assumed I needed my dad’s help or the comfort of my home to help overcome my illness, but I quickly proved myself wrong. My dad even admitted that most of the time when he gets sick, he has no idea what to do to make himself feel better. I realized that even at home, trying to cure any of my past illnesses has always been a guessing game. Although it might feel different and more secure when I’m at home, it’s really no different. But why doesn’t this comfort me?

Saying that it’s scary being away from home is an understatement. But in order to get past all of these scary feelings, you have to experience the events. In order to know what to do when you get sick and stuck in bed, you have to experience a cold and learn how to take care of it on your own. Similarly, in order to get to know how to get around a new city, you need to test out the public transportation and get a feel of the city, maybe even get lost in it so you can find your way back. Everything is a learning process. No one just shows up at college knowing every skill that they will ever need. It’s also helpful to know that even though your parents or some of your closest friends are not living in Boston, they are still there to help you. Even though my dad couldn’t bring me the right medicine I needed, he could still tell me exactly what steps to take as if he were in the same room as me. Thankfully, I was able to take care of myself without much extra help and fortunately without a trip to the emergency room.

Rachel Chistyakov is a freshman in the College of Arts and Sciences and a fall 2012 columnist for The Daily Free Press. She can be reached at rachelch@bu.edu.