I’ll Take That Virus to Go!

Caution: Poorly used sports metaphors employed below.

Dear Team Immunowarriors,

This is it: the big game we’ve been talking about all season long. It all comes down to brass tacks, or Tic Tacs, or however that expression goes. We don’t even have home game advantage. We have to take a bus tomorrow morning, which is about as alien territory as it gets. Also I know none of you have prepared yet, as we are a team known for our leisurely plays, so start drinking Gatorade until your collective bladder hurts, popping Bennies like you mean it, and resting. Because otherwise they’re socking it to us like they mean it. To be frank, that’s probably going to happen anyway. The point is, it’s time for another battle, and let’s not lose this one as badly as the last time. Sneeze patrol, I’m looking at you guys. All white blood cells on deck. Over and out.

Co-achoooo Parna

P to the Sssssst: Don’t let their “Wastebins full of soggy tissues” scare tactics get to you. They play dirty, but we already know that, don’t we?

One Flu Over the Cuckoo’s Nest

I’m the cuckoo.

So it was the flu, after all.

Flu Country for Old Men.

I actually enjoy how my maladies never choose to present themselves in some clichéd “fever – boom! aches – boom! cough – boom!” fashion but start all mysterious and funky.

There Will Be Flu-d.

This one decided to start with a sneeze parade. Seriously. Nothing else felt quite out of the ordinary. Just a non-stop marching band of sneezes (see previous entry). One after the other until mama called them all home to dinner. At which point they all disappeared into the ether.


Then one restless sleep later, I awoke full of fever and hazy-eyed, suddenly aware that I had a starring role in:

Sneezy Bod: The Demon Virus of Flu Street.

I am a wimp when I am sick so I just try and sleep until it all passes, which is probably why I ended up sleeping from 8:20pm, Monday night until 8:20am, Wednesday morning with a break for vitamin cocktails and French toast (fever foods don’t make sense), email (this was overwhelming, and probably a bad choice), and staring at the TV (not really watching it) from 4pm-10pm Tuesday night. I also woke up a few times last night to change clothes – huzzah, night sweats! Fever breaking, breaking, breaking…broken! I also had some lovely end-of-fever dreams involving nature scenes.

So this morning I arose with a hive explosion on my face. It looked like I had a modern-day version of the plague, but that never stopped anyone from going to work in the Middle Ages, so why me? One of my eyes had sunken into the recesses of my skull surrounded by a savannah of swelling, and there were red blotches all over my face. My mom laughed when she saw my face because it looked pathetic, and that was an appropriate reaction for a medical professional. My dad looked concerned, and produced five vitamins for me to swallow immediately, if not sooner. A second opinion never hurts (the ego).

So this particular illness has taken me out of the running for a good part of this week. I’m not really complaining though because I’ve learned a lot. And I’m hoping this day will scurry on by so I can get back into bed.