Self-Portrait As Pathetic Immune System

On Monday, all of a sudden I could smell again.  "Emily!" I cried to my roommate in my deep and husky man-voice, "What's that in the toaster?"  She told me it was just her lunch.  "But I can smell it!  What is it, exactly?"  It was toast, covered in pesto.  Another VISTA had given her a great deal of basil, and we're currently drowning in pesto.  Which was when I realized that yes, I could smell, but I could only smell pesto.  I hate pesto.

Still, it was a stepping-stone, and later that night, joy upon joys, my ears unpopped for the first time in days and I could hear unmuffled again.  These things combined with the fact that my dreams were 50% less bizarre and I was able to think relatively clearly convinced me that come Tuesday morning I would wake up well and hale!

I am remarkably stupid for a college graduate.  Doggedly, I went to work anyway, pockets stuffed with tissues.  I made it until about 11:00, at which point I had gone through all of my tissues and half of a roll of paper towels, to boot.  Only Vista was feeling happy.  I stumbled home, defeated by my own shoddy immune system, and spent the rest of the day wrapped in a comforter on the couch, feeling feverish once again, as my body had apparently decided to punish my foolish tip-toe forward by shoving me two steps back.

And yet, here I am at work again.  Today I brought a whole BOX of tissues, chugged some cough syrup in addition to the usual morning Advil Cold & Sinus, and am sort of actually feeling okay.  I have no illusions about making it past lunchtime, however.

And now, because it makes me happy to make lists, here are the things that have kept me sane (sane-ish?) through this wretched whatever-it-is.

1. The Percy Jackson series by Rick Riordan
2. Replaying Windwaker (though to be fair I started it before catching the plague)
3. Emma
4. General Winston's Daughter by Sharon Shinn
5. Avatar Book 2
6. The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian (this came from the library, which has been a GODSEND)
7. Gas station pizza (which, as it turns out, makes excellent balm for a sore throat)
8. Candy corn
9. Hulu
10. Frequent (and increasingly angry and pathetic) calls to my mom and Laura, gleeful Appa-filled texts to Chris.

In Which I Find Myself Surrounded By Tissues

This photo has nothing to do with this post.  I didn't take it, Christy did, from an airplane somewhere over Southeast Asia.  But I have had a miserable weekend, and it gives me a momentary glimpse of escape, so I'm clinging to it.

I am a terrible sick person.  I try to put on a brave face, but that only lasts about the first five minutes, after which I am about as grouchy and pathetic as a person can be.  On Friday, it was a sore throat.  By Saturday, my throat felt so swollen I could hardly swallow and I could no longer breathe through my nose.  I curled up on the couch and attempted to shield my roommates from the miserable mood I knew would shortly descend.  Fortunately for them, they had better things to do than sit around and pity me, and I spent most of the day alone, reading, watching movies, and napping.

I went outside to doze in the grass, but a short time later I abruptly realized that I was on my way up one of the trees in our yard with no real memory of having gotten myself there. Fortunately I hadn't made it very far up; coming down from where I was was graceless and painful enough.  I retreated into the house, and safety.  That was the first slip into delirium I can recall.  The second was when I realized I was having a conversation with my DVD rack.  I was doing most of the talking.  Unsurprisingly, my DVD rack is not a terribly good conversationalist.

My night was peppered with fever-dreams of Greek gods and tidal waves (I've been reading this series), which were odd and vivid, even for me.  Today, which would have been wonderful enough as it was, a small headache developed behind my left eye (they always start behind the left eye) which by early afternoon was a full-blown migraine.  Added to this was Vista (who's suffering from an ear infection), who was so bored of my misery she was vocally complaining.  As of now, the migraine has gone back from whence it came, and I only feel a little like I was beaten with a wiffle bat.  Could be worse.

I hear this wretched thing is going around, and I have only one piece of advice for any future sufferers: stay away from trees.