Let's face it; the Sinus Infection Fairy is making the rounds, and no one's getting off easy. Everyone’s sick right now. And if you’re not now, YOU WILL BE SOON. The sensation of being a disease-ridden sack of gloom is all too familiar to me. In fact, it’s a well-documented phenomenon that begins thusly:
Stage One: You feel the faint traces of a stuffy nose. You rationalize that you can’t be getting sick because you have plans on Friday. You’ve got a date. You’re walking your neighbor’s llama-giraffe hybrid. You’re playing Sudoku and eating fried chicken alone in your room while watching Deadliest Catch. These are all things that clogged sinuses will RUIN. So of course you’re not getting sick. It’s allergies. You’re allergic to snow. Sometimes.
Stage Two: Paranoia sets in. You begin to wonder if you’re getting a fever, or if the room is just too hot. Is your runny nose a result of sobbing at the end of Homeward Bound, or are you coming down with something? And your throat hurts so badly it feels like you're swallowing fire, but that could be a coincidence, right?
Stage Three: You can still get out of this. You've been struck by the mentality that if you wash your hands to the point of skin removal, you’ll be able to eradicate this germy intruder. You’ll rally the antibodies by eating lots of yogurt and carrots, and soon whatever wimpy virus DARED to challenge the impenetrable force that is your immune system will be SORRY INDEED.
Stage Four: By now you can’t deny it; you’re sick. You briefly wonder what traitorous acquaintance of yours couldn’t be bothered to cover their damn mouth, and you begin plotting an epic scheme of revenge that will make them regret ever spewing their germs in your general direction. But then you sneeze forty times in a row and lose interest.
Stage Five: You are confined to being within five feet of the tissue box. You’re not leaving your house for anything short of a fire, and even then you might make a quick pro/con list first.
Stage Six: You look back fondly on the days you used to breathe through your nose. You wish you’d appreciated your nasal passages before. You’ve been wearing the same pajamas for three days and YOU’RE NOT STOPPING NOW.
Stage Seven: “Well,” you think in a daze of feverish delirium, “I lived a good life.”
Stage Eight: By this time you’re convinced you have tuberculosis with just a touch of bacterial meningitis. Also you have a headache, so that’s probably a brain tumor.
Stage Nine: You’ve resolved yourself to a life of blowing your nose every two minutes and generally feeling like the grossest human being in all the lands. People everywhere will stare in horror as you try to integrate into normal society. You’ll be known as a medical anomaly—that one person who got a cold and then never got better, but also didn’t get any worse. You'll remain a stagnant sufferer of the sinus infection for the rest of your days.
Stage Ten: And then one day—one day you’ll wake up and realize you’ve been getting better for a while now. You can BREATHE. Your ears have popped. Your throat no longer feels like a scalding wall of flames. Suddenly colors seem so much brighter, and everything seems possible, and it’s like being BORN AGAIN, and from now on you'll appreciate each and every day that passes disease-free.
No comments:
Post a Comment