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A Most Virulent Pox

I consider myself lucky for having a rather good immune system. That’s why when my suitemate, then my friend across the hall, and then my friend next door got sick, I wasn’t overly concerned. If you ask my friends they’ll probably tell you that I said “I never get sick” about ten or fifteen times over this past week with a haughty and self-righteous tone. They are liars and are not to be trusted, but regardless, I was pretty confident that I would not succumb to this terrible plague that had been seeping its way into the throats and nostrils of my compatriots. Sadly, I was quite mistaken.

I awoke yesterday morning with a subtle scratch in the back of my throat. I blew it off as “just a morning thing” and carried on with my day. It didn’t go away. I drank copious amounts of sprite to burn my throat into submission with carbonation and pretend that nothing had gone awry. It worked, and I had convinced myself utterly of the fact until I woke up this morning at 7:30 unable to breathe through my nose. Seeing as how Thursday is my sleep in day (I only have one class and it starts at noon) I was understandably irritated. I took some Sudafed and Dayquil even though I’m not sure whether or not it’s ok to combine those, and went back to bed.

My cold was not to be denied, and I awoke thirty minutes later in even sadder condition than before. I have been more or less miserable all day, but I’m a big boy, I can handle a little suffering. What gets me is my friends’ behavior. It goes wholly against nature. After days of holier-than-thou bragging about my immune system’s nuclear capabilities, I contracted the vile pox the same as everyone else, but my friends haven’t said one word about it. They act as though I weren’t a complete wanker, I don’t understand it. If I were in their place (heaven forbid, it would be awful not being me), I would be rubbing it into their faces like so much wedding cake during a particularly violent wedding day. Only instead of cake, I would be rubbing shame. Instead of mocking me for my foolishness they actually lament the fact that I am ill, when just days before I was without sympathy entirely. I don’t like it, and I think I should find new friends.

The sickness is upon me, and its vengeance is white hot with its terrible sense of poetic justice
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February 15, 2007 | | Comments are closed for this post
photo of Ryan