I was staying at Jimmy’s house in St Louis and sleeping in his 3 year old daughters room since she was at her grandparents for the weekend. Well, she came back Sunday night instead of Monday so my ass was moved to the couch, where I was able to receive night number 2 of zero to 4 hours of sleep. This is just what the virus wanted. and it rubbed its little virussey palms together in satisfaction.

Monday: So I wake up and feel tired, droopy and have a cottonhead. Cottonhead isn’t a medical term even in slang, so don’t bother googling – I’m just saying my head felt like Cotton. You know – thick, fluffy, airy, the fabric of our lives. That kinda thing. So now what the eff am I supposed to do? I had previously considered staying in Missouri till the weekend when Wheeler would be back, but I couldn’t battle an oncoming fever virus with no juice,fruits,soups&meds on a couch for a whole week. I’d die. So I had to leave that day. But where? To home in California? eff that. My mom IMed me asking when I was leaving and I mentioned I was getting sick and that maybe I should stop by her place before going home. She said “yes. ok. come here” and booked me on the 2 o’clock flight to Texas. Go mom.

Afternoon: The whole plane ride I was fighting back the urge to vomit. I got the sickness bag ready in the seat pocket in front of me but never had to use it. Made the entire ride very uncomfortable though since I had to constantly concentrate on the back of my throat and be like “noo… no… ah!… noo..” the same way I do when I put a treat in front of my dog and make him sit and look at it till I say “okay” and he looks back and forth between me and the treat while leaning forward ever so slightly.
My dog was puke in that metaphor in case that was hard to follow btw.

Night: I made it to Texas, got my bag, and finally relaxed my defenses and let the virus take over. Despite picking up steaks at Costco on the way home, per my dads request, I passed them up when they were grilled and pretty much just collapsed and fell into the trippy whirlwind of feverland. It was like my head was a gas stove that had been on low for 2 days and when I was at last in surroundings where I could sleep, eat and be taken care of comfortably, my body said “FINALLY!” and turned the flame on to high. I think I even heard the “Pffffoo” blast too. Which sucks because that’s really great imagery, but gas grills are becoming scarce so I’m dating this post and in 8 years or so no one is gonna understand wtf I was talking about.

Tuesday: I woke up at 1AM. and felt awesome. Last night I was the red faced chief of the Wannapukie tribe, and now, its 2AM and I’m up and bouncy. Head still feels pretty thick/pressured and heavy but otherwise I’m great. I’m walkin around. On the computer (which means sitting upright). Got a bowl of a vanilla ice cream and ate it in the bath. I am Mr Recovery.

Morning: Well that’s gay. I woke up feeling like shit again. Wtf. Fever’s back. Throat feels like the chaffed sandy buttcrack of a middle aged overweight female. Sucks. Also, I think you should all do yourself a favor and re-read/ponder that red faced chief of the Wannapukie tribe thing, cuz that’s effin clever. I come up with my best material late at night.

Afternoon: My cough has turned into the dryest emptiest thing ever. If one sneaks out it dominos into a chain of fits if I didn’t put the breaks on it immediately. It’s extra lame though cuz they’re not phlemmy coughs. Maybe cuz I took Mucinex. Idk. But aren’t coughs designed to force out stuff blocking your air passage? Um. Hello. Body? There ain’t shit in there. I can hear the cough’s echo in my through its so clear of debris. So lame. Its weird though how you forget what a soar throat or fever really feels like and then you get one and you’re like “ooooh ya. mhmm. I remember this. oh boy” and have flashbacks to when you were sick in grade school and experiencing these body ailments for the first time.

Night: As I was watching the Clinton/Obama neck and neck race results from Super Tuesday, I suddenly got cold as hell – a phrase that I’m reconsidering as being accurate, despite the obvious appearance of a contradiction in terms. Ya, Hell is a hot and fiery place, but its also wicked and a place for punishment. Therefore “It’s cold as hell” could mean “its so cold that its uncomfortable to the point that I feel like I’m being individually punished”. Ya dig?

I bundled up in layers and a wool hat but it wasn’t enough. I was shivering. So I drew a bath of only hot water, which of course would burn my skin off, so I filled the last two inches with only cold water. A mistake I make all, the freaking, time. And like every other time, I was punished for my terrible mixology here too when the cold water made the bath not so warm at all and I was unable to fix it cuz I had run out of hot water.

Shivering like a chihuahua without a sweater, I got out of the bath, drief off and bundled back up. Went to bed with everything on that I would wear in the snow, minus gloves. Maybe that’s why I woke up around 5AM drenched, but I kinda doubt it cuz I would continue to be warm in my squish. I may have used the term “cold sweat” before to describe the condition I’ve woken up in, but I found new meaning in it tonight. This was an ICE sweat. I got up and changed my wet undershirt and put on another long sleeve top to add to my existing 3 layers and an extra blanket. It didn’t help. I couldn’t sleep I was shivering so bad so I got up and turned on the bath, again with only hot water, but more confidant this time because my dad had used it to go to work shortly prior so I knew there might not be enough hot left. I filled a tal Bubba Gump glass with pineapple juice to soothe my throat while the bath filled and the shivers were so bad it was hard to breathe. Can you effing believe that? Shivering so hard. you can’t. frigging. gasp. for motherloving oxygen.

The bath was hot enough to calm the freeze and I’ve been up since then. 8AM Wednesday morning now. Will try to sleep just cuz I know I probably need it.

Wednesday: Oh what.ever. This is so lame. I’m not better yet. I’m gonna stop blogging about it now. I’m better in every way except I’ve got a soar throat and I’m coughing like craze. I can’t stretch that out into anything interesting for another 5 days as it fades away.

Now I face the biggest dilemma of all: do I post this blog in sections day by day? or all in one post? Normal people will say it doesn’t matter but it effing does and it’ll keep me up at night until I figure out the right decision. If I post it all together, I run the risk of it being too long and unattractive to read for viewers. If I post it day by day, then I increase the number of posts in the blog section that talk about me being sick and people will think I’m a pussy. Ya, it’s from the same time, but it won’t appear that way, same as how 20 dollars in one dollar bills looks like more money than two 10’s. Fuck. Maybe I’ll just save this as a draft and take a poll. Or maybe I’ll just not post it at all. Or maybe…