AsianPersuasion is an evolutionary disaster. By this I mean every day of her life hangs by a fraying thread. A brush with hidden tree-nuts or apple skins could be disastrous. In the summer, her heart basically says, “it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity” and then gives up. So, it’s no surprise that she’s the first one of us to get sick this fall. So, we’ve asked her to live blog her illness. We will not be editing her, because we figure fever induced jibberish is part of the appeal of this little piece. So, stay tuned:
Monday afternoon in the middle of a meeting, I felt the chills and sweats come over me, accompanied by a massive attack of body aches. As much as I tried for mind over matter and even went into work Tuesday, by 11am my ass was kicked. I was headachey, woozy, dizzy, achy, alternating between bundling up like crazy and doing a strip tease with each chill and heatwave. I’m pretty sure that I made calls for work and left my call back number as a mix of my work number and cell number. So some poor bastard is getting all my return phone calls. I’m also not sure I remember the drive home. Whoops. And now, the Anti-Couric wants me to digitally share my snots with you all…I’m pretty sure she’d capitalize on anything. The sad part is, I’m happy to do this.
9am: The dr’s office opens at 9…must call…make appointment…
9:05am: WTF. The line has been busy each of the 13 times I’ve tried. Or the annoying recording saying they are closed.
9:08am: EFF THIS.
9:17am: I’m going to wind up yelling profanities at whoever picks up the phone and then I’ll never get in…
9:26am: A HUMAN BEING! Appointment this afternoon…thank…God. Now time to die. But first, soup. And a box of tissues.
10:03am: Operation Get Soup completed. “Meat” in canned soup went to cat and dog since I’m not sure if it’s actual chicken. Or what part of the chicken. Hope I didn’t just turn one or both of the pets into cannibals. Bedtime.
12:46pm: Fell asleep watching Gilmore Girls and contemplating the actual location of Stars Hollow. Woken up by boyfriend calling to check on signs of life. Just looked in mirror…why is it when you are sick your hair also decides to go for the insane look…like meringue on a pie?? AND WHAT IS THAT I JUST COUGHED UP?! It’s green…and thick and shaped like Texas. Which reminds me…Houston could elect an openly gay man and Maine ends same sex marriage? We might as well let the swines take over the world.
1:12pm: Ugh. Just looked in the sink…it’s full of sick dishes. Next place I live must have a dishwasher to disinfect shit like this. There’s not water hot enough to convince me that the germs are as dead as dead can dead.
121pM: I think my head might fall off.
1;25PM: Maybe if I take 6 advil the headache will go away? Or is that like a suicide attempt? What’s the line there?
1:47pm: If I whine enough, I wonder if someone will come and make me tea. Anti-Couric? Dr. Gold? The Easter Bunny? AN hour and a half until I have to get to the doctor’s. Should I be driving? I mean, ever since I’m a terrible driver but right now especially.
336pm: showering was almost a traumatic experience with the dizzy and confused. Took three times longer than usual. Now in dr’s waiting room. Did I remember to put a bra on? Yes. Good. This place is packed and if I didn’t have plague before I’m sure I’ll leave with it. Awesome.
412pm: still waiting. If all these chairs didn’t have arms I’d stretch out and have myself a little nap. Ugh
5:28pm: I’m sure this will disappoint the AntiCouric but it’s not swine flu. Not even regular flu. Luke everything else in my medical history it’s not simple. It’s a virus but not easily treated because of my wonky heart. I did get some drugs and currntly wait in cvs for them. I’ve also now learned that the iPhone spelling thing knows “didgeridoo”. Which makes it all worth it.
Oh and a guy was sent to the hospital via ambulance from the dr’s office while I was in the exam room. Hope the poor dude is okay.
6:12 pm: I should not drive anymore. In the pharmacy parking lot, I spent several minutes trying to get into a car in that was not mine. Mine was two down. At the moment I am staring at a bottle of pedialite…the doc said I needed to drink a bottle of it tonight to try to bring my fever down. I’ve heard it tastes like piss. I don’t want to drink a bottle of piss.
Thursday, 8:52 am: BLAH. Crawled into bed about 7pm last night to wake up around 8pm ready to die…everything hurt so bad I actually cried and was curled under all my blankets trying to get warm. I can just imagine how pathetic it must have been. Boyfriend called after a work function n the midst of this disaster, came over and made me soup since I couldn’t even make it downstairs. Back to sleep only to wake up around midnight to find out the effing Yankees won. Made me want to throw up…and vomiting is not part of this sickness. I hate the Yankees.
Still feverish and still hurting, but at least mobile again. And pedialite does taste nasty. Like melted jello. So gross. I’m debating bathing myself in lysol I feel so germy and gross. Except the smell of lysol always makes me want to die. Just ate a little bit…now time to crawl back into bed.
2:13pm: Slept the entire morning away…which I would say was a good thing if I had woken up all better. Another pile of oddly shaped green shit. Nothing decipherable though. Should clean up a little…teh cat and dog seem very confused that I’ve been here for 48 hours straight…actually I’m pretty confused too.
3:51 p.m.: Okay, that’s enough being awake. I drank some piss pedialite. Back to sleep.
9:00 p.m.: This blows. Speaking of, I need to blow my nose.
Friday, 11:06 a.m.: GODDAMMIT! I’m still not allowed back at work and I am still feeling like crap and getting bored of it. Luckily I have popcorn ceilings so am debating counting every bump on my bedroom ceiling.
4;44 pm: back at the doctor’s. Not happy.
*We at The Cut are acutely aware of the potential severity and seriousness of H1N1, but as every other media outlet is making this abundantly clear, we (true to form) have decided to take the road less traveled and approach this with flu humor. We are extremely sympathetic to all those affected by illness this season—we just have no sympathy for each other.
I’m going to blame the Yankees for the fact that I woke up around 3 a.m., feeling like someone was cooking a witches’ brew in my stomach, and then paid the old porcelain God a visit. It’s Matsui’s fault, not mine for drinking on an empty stomach and then adding strawberry yogurt to the mix right before bed.