On being sick

The last few days I’ve woken up with the raw, scratchy feeling in my throat like I had been throwing up the night before.  Thing is, I haven’t puked once.  And nothing had come of the initial feeling until this morning when I couldn’t breathe.  I was choking on my snot and coughing up phlegm that looked like half-fried eggs.  Delicious. 

In the past three years I haven’t really gotten sick.  While working at WaMu I only used four sick days: twice to go to Cubs’ games, once to visit Linsey in Florida, and once because my back went out.  There was one occasion when I left work early because of a sinus infection, but I got medicine that day and it cleared up over a weekend.  I haven’t really had a true cold in some time, not since undergrad.  So when I woke up this morning with a head and chest cold, I felt quite relieved. 

I thought that this would be a day of staying in bed.  No class, no laundry—they would have to wait until I was better.  Every time I coughed I could feel mucus sacks exploding in my lungs.  The heavy feeling of lung piss filling my chest, weighing me down, combined with the throbbing sinuses and head pounding distracted me from everything else that had been on my mind.  So long as I didn’t have to get out of bed, I would survive today. 

But as the day went on and I got a bunch of work done, I started to feel less sick.  I blame the chicken soup and all of its mystical powers.  The hacking cough subsided and all of the shit that had been on my mind flooded back into its original, empty space.  I decided to go to class—a bad idea—so I wouldn’t be left alone with my wandering mind. 

In class, my nose wouldn’t stop running and I felt like lying down in the middle of the circle.  The sickness wasn't gone.  I don’t even know how long I was there, but the walk back to my car in the free lot made me think about how bad of an idea it was to go to school today, how I should have worn more than just a wind breaker this weekend.  Why the fuck is it this cold so late into the year?

I had a roommate at SIU who referred to our first year in Carbondale as the Eternal Winter.  He even wrote a song (a Brutus song) about it.  I think he called it that because it had snowed after Spring Break.  That was nothing.  We had ice blowing in sideways from the west Friday night.  April 25^th.  Ridiculous. 

Anyways, I hope I’m not sick during the reading on Thursday.  I don’t really feel like snotting all over the microphone, and I’m sure those who have to follow me would appreciate that, either.  And I don’t want to get anyone sick, though I’m not sure if it’s that kind of a cold. If there is an MFA prom and I play the role of booze-and-cruise limo driver, I don't want to sound all stuffed up when singing along to the radio.  My passengers might not like that.  To the makers of Maximum Strength Wal-Phed (Walgreens brand Sudafed), Nasonex, and albuterol:  thanks for helping me get by today. 

Side note: why the hell is Robert Downy Jr. playing an action hero?  I don’t know much about Iron Man, but apparently his weaknesses include after-hours parties at Charlie Sheen’s and eight-balls of coke.