October 18, 1972

Dear Diary,

I thought chicken pox was a fairly easy sickness! I mean, Mel and Dana and Matt were laughing and playing, even though they were an itchy, red & puffy and pus-yucky mess.

Not me, tho. I got this terrible fever and when I stood up I got dizzy. And when I tried to go to the bathroom, I got all faint and Daddy had to take me. Then he stood outside the door calling, "You okay, Emmy? Do you need help, Emmy?"

Who can pee with that going on?

We don't have a bathtub in this house, just two showers. So Mama got this big tin tub and filled it with warm water and baking soda and made me take a bath in it, trying to make my skin break out with the blisters. She said once the blisters pop out the fever would break.

But they never did pop out and I just stayed sick for about four days.

So today, I came back to school, and I'm all pale and stuff, and Lenore Wallace comes up to me and goes, "Oh, you lost weight! Good for you!"

And, Dear Diary, I'm not sure how to feel about that! What was she really saying? That I'm fat? That I NEEDED to lose weight?

I didn't bother to tell her I've been sick. She probably didn't even notice I was gone the last two days. Besides, let her think I lost weight on purpose.

I don't know why I'm letting this bug me. She was probably just being nice.

Which would be weird...

Ya know what, dear diary? I still don't feel great and I'm giving myself a headache worrying about something so dumb. So that'll do me for today.

Your friend,

Emma