The following morning I woke up feeling even sicker. What the hell?! I pulled out all the essential oils I thought could help and I doused myself in them. It wasn’t until a friend at the conference said “I think you’re experiencing altitude sickness” that I realized what was happening! I was! And I made it worse by not staying fully hydrated! Ohgawd! No! As I was listening to the presenter I realized I had to quickly get up and leave… my mouth began to water. I know this feeling and it means I’m about to be sick. There was no way I was going to puke in the “IGotPoop.com" biffy. As I started walking -trotting- back to the car, I began to heave and hurl all the water I had attempted to drink in an effort to hydrate the altitude sickness out of me .. and puked all the way to the car. My hotel roomie friend, knowing I was sick, went to the first aid tent to grab me anti-dizzy stuff. They insisted on seeing me and embarrassingly four people on a golf cart drove to my aid. When I saw them approaching, I threw my hand in the air, “STOP! DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!” I said. One of the men said “Why?” and I said, “Because I’ve puked over here and I’m humiliated.” He smiled and said, “Well if it makes you feel any better, there are horses on the property and there’s poop all over the place so no one is going to care about your puke.” Point taken. I was told to go to the emergency room, apparently, a little boy had died from altitude sickness the week previous. But, I was raised by WW2 era parents who used peroxide and Epsom salt to cure all ills so going to the ER seemed extreme. I went back to the hotel where I developed a fever and body aches which aren’t typical altitude symptoms. What was happening to me?! As I laid moaning and crying in bed, I mustered enough energy to get up and walk to the hotel lobby across the parking lot. I remembered seeing travel packs of meds there when I checked in the day before. I needed something. The lobby attendant was a little freaked out when she saw me so I can only imagine what she was thinking... t-shirt with no bra, pajama shorts, flip-flops, smeared mascara and lipstick and a psychotic mane of black hair... she probably thought I was a truckstop hooker. It was 2 in the afternoon and there was no reason I should be there looking like this. So I quickly filled her in "Help. I'm sick. I'm at attending a conference 10 miles from here but I have altitude sickness and I can't stop puking." her face quickly changed (everyone in Utah is Mormon so you KNOW I'm right that she thought I was hookin' at the Best Western). "OH HONEY!" Yup, it's a thing here. The only thing that helps me when I get it, is Dramamine, but we don't have any. If I were you, I would take this Pepto Bismol ... it's something." I took it and it didn't help so I continued to be sick at a lonely hotel off the main highway all by myself. My travel partner came back a few hours later and quickly got on her phone trying to figure out what was happening and offering to drive me out of the hills in the middle of the night, I started taking anything that could help. Stuff for my tummy? Yup give it to me! Stuff for my sinuses? Yeah, I’ll take it! Ginger Ale? Why not. And of course, I was rubbing Digize on my stomach to help with nausea. Thieves on my feet to pull out the fever, lemon on the roof of my mouth to open my sinuses. What else do you have? Give me all of it! Oh and all my yoga breathing. I was getting on a plane to Oklahoma the next day and couldn’t fly if I felt this sick.