The view from my room
Too bad I won't be able to see you at all, Seydisfjordur, because I made the mistake of asking for a pill for a mild upset stomach, in the medical bay of the ship. I wanted it as a safeguard for the one excursion I was really looking forward to today.
Note to self: do not go near the medical bay unless you are dying.
I'm on 24-hour isolation in my room. Getting room service is okay, but if I leave my room, my printed information ("We're so sorry you are ill!") says I will be put ashore and can figure out how to get home on my own.
I'm trying to fill out a medical form listing everywhere I've been and everything I've eaten in the last four days.
And I'm totally fine. Once they gave me the pill I wanted, my upset system was made right. I'm just really angry I didn't pack the OTC pills I might need.
Today is Katherine's birthday, but I can't call or even text her from room; our international phone service won't work on cruise ships. I already wept about that - the bogus phone service we paid Verizon for and also missing my daughter's birthday.
So until 8 am tomorrow I will watch TV, read, and sleep. I can admire the view. I can pray.
The excursion money will be refunded. Keith still gets to take the excursion and come and go from our room as he pleases. So maybe I'm not really Typhoid Mary, and they know it.
Of course, it is a "first world problem" as Keith would say. If he said it today, I might wallop him.