On the train home two Fridays ago my decay into lifeless zombie began. I usually just ignore stuffy noses, sore throats, and minor earaches because since I was a kid I have been in and out of doctors’ offices for some kind of dramatic illness almost every year. First tonsillitis, then a double ear infection, then pneumonia, then more ear infections and a resulting surgery, then strep, then bronchitis, strep again, and last year was the worst ever when I had mono. At some point I stopped being alarmed by it and just became annoyed at my immune system's fetish for theatricality. So when I get a little sniffly or get a small cough, I take some Dayquil and be thankful its not as bad as I know it can be. I had been feeling kind of icky all week and I just ignored it. But when I was sitting on the train unable to keep my eyes open —despite the fact that I had gotten 8 hours of sleep, took my Adderall two hours earlier, and was on my second cup of coffee (It was National Coffee Day)— that little voice in my head tried to tell me that my annual dramatic illness has made its debut. Not wanting to participate in the performance, I ignored my intuition in hopes it would go away on its own. You may have assumed the remainder of this story would be a climatic reveal of the deathly disease I discovered and how I was bedridden and
my life stopped completely. If I was right in my assumption, you were wrong in yours. What actually happened is everything I did became twice as hard and I had to drink a lot more coffee. My sickness made me so tired and I became very unproductive and discombobulated. I got behind in my homework that weekend and it followed me back to school, demonstrating the snowball effect quite perfectly. I could only focus on the barren desert that my throat became and I forgot assignments and due dates and just generally felt miserable all day. And at night wasn't any better I had fevers and chills and never slept more than and hour and a half at a time. Finally, on Friday I gave in and made an appointment at Sindecuse. I went in to get tested for every illness I could think of/diagnosed myself with on WebMD. They sent me to different desks and rooms and labs for an hour and a half only to tell me they had no clue what was wrong. The doctor prescribed me penicillin and ibuprofen because he didn't know what else to do. I took one of each 3 times a day after that and nothing changed until Tuesday when I was able to eat something other than ramen and cough drops for the first time. I'm not exactly convinced the medication had anything to do with it, but I'm now feeling like a human again.
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