Several decades ago when I was a freshman in college, I had all the symptoms of the flu. I was at my future husband’s family home and was experiencing great nausea and bodily pain.

As evening approached, my future mother-in-law insisted on taking me to the university infirmary. I didn’t object—I didn’t want them to be afraid, and I knew they felt they were doing the caring thing.

At the infirmary I was sedated and immediately fell asleep. The next morning I woke up with the same symptoms—still dizzy, nauseated, and chilled. I realized that I had a choice to make and that there was no one who could make it but me. I could spend more time there and perhaps miss classes, play rehearsals, and work, or I could rely on Christian Science, which I’d been studying all year.