I’ve finally crawled out from under my rock. Like a fox, I prefer to chew my leg off and possibly die in the dark and in solitude. A week of sitting in my living room, staring at the four orange walls that surrounded me, left me a little bats.
Orange is a bad color for a sick room. Especially when one has a high fever for five days. It makes everything seem even hotter and the sweat, sweatier. Which this strand of flu left me sweating more than I ever have in my entire life. Cascading off my body like a white water rapids. Soaking my clothes to the point where I was left digging through my ballet bag; seeing if I had anything in there that would work as sick lounge wear, since I’d soiled everything else.
Not pretty. I never thought I’d run out of pajamas. But when you’re sweating like a drug deprived dope fiend, that’s what you get. In fact, this flu was much like the DT’s I went through when cleaning up. So the head fuck that went along with it was just rosy.
At some point, (the point in which I probably should have checked myself in to St. Mary Frances What’s Her Ass), I started hallucinating. Thinking one of the walls were brick. That something was out to get me and I had better line up somebody to come get my dogs because I’d most likely be dead soon.
One wall kept staring at me funny and the other was telling me to shoot the hostage. What hostage? And wasn’t that a line from a bad Keanu Reeves movie that involved a bus?
To say the least, shit got weird. Weird, painful and hot.
I lost so much weight, my figure looks like that of a 1990’s Barbie doll. And it’s not the 90’s, so that shit’s not cool. I guess that’s what a diet of Ensure and Gatorade does to person… New weight loss plan. Want to get skinny? Start licking the polls in the subway cars. You’re guaranteed to loose weight via frankenflu. Kidding, don’t.
I did learn through this however, that I have no patience nor tolerance for extended amounts of pain and suffering. Like, no more than two days. I’m no candidate for chronic illness. No poster child here. If I would have had a gun, I would have blown my brains out. Blamo.
Sounds extreme, sure. But being a hot, wet mess in extreme pain, stuck alone in a room and on a couch for days, surrounded by asshole dogs is no way to live. It makes one go nuts. Hell, I still feel a little off. I keep thinking today is Sunday…
I don’t really care about the brain cell loss, as long as it doesn’t affect my creativity. I don’t need to learn any more science and I’m never going to figure out what pi equals, so fuck it. Let’s hope all the losses are on that side of the brain.
Maybe it enhanced my crazy a little. My bat-shit meter feels like it’s gone up a bit and that’s good. Lots of new writing ideas, I’m just moving at a snail’s pace to get them out.
Maybe I need some more Gatorade…
It sure hasn’t helped my temperament. My inner Satan comes out whilst healing. Running errands for the first time since I went under, during Black Friday was fun. Several people lost their heads.
Anyway. The bitch is back. A little crazier, a little more pissed off and a little off kilter, but I’m here. From here on out I’ll attempt to keep the steady stream of bullshit flowing.
Fingers crossed I don’t get sick again.
Check out the blog on it's home site @
www.hihaveyoumetme.com for previous writings and more.
Don’t forget to stalk me further at https://twitter.com/#!/hihaveyoumetme orhttp://www.facebook.com/authorkatemonahan
Orange is a bad color for a sick room. Especially when one has a high fever for five days. It makes everything seem even hotter and the sweat, sweatier. Which this strand of flu left me sweating more than I ever have in my entire life. Cascading off my body like a white water rapids. Soaking my clothes to the point where I was left digging through my ballet bag; seeing if I had anything in there that would work as sick lounge wear, since I’d soiled everything else.
Not pretty. I never thought I’d run out of pajamas. But when you’re sweating like a drug deprived dope fiend, that’s what you get. In fact, this flu was much like the DT’s I went through when cleaning up. So the head fuck that went along with it was just rosy.
At some point, (the point in which I probably should have checked myself in to St. Mary Frances What’s Her Ass), I started hallucinating. Thinking one of the walls were brick. That something was out to get me and I had better line up somebody to come get my dogs because I’d most likely be dead soon.
One wall kept staring at me funny and the other was telling me to shoot the hostage. What hostage? And wasn’t that a line from a bad Keanu Reeves movie that involved a bus?
To say the least, shit got weird. Weird, painful and hot.
I lost so much weight, my figure looks like that of a 1990’s Barbie doll. And it’s not the 90’s, so that shit’s not cool. I guess that’s what a diet of Ensure and Gatorade does to person… New weight loss plan. Want to get skinny? Start licking the polls in the subway cars. You’re guaranteed to loose weight via frankenflu. Kidding, don’t.
I did learn through this however, that I have no patience nor tolerance for extended amounts of pain and suffering. Like, no more than two days. I’m no candidate for chronic illness. No poster child here. If I would have had a gun, I would have blown my brains out. Blamo.
Sounds extreme, sure. But being a hot, wet mess in extreme pain, stuck alone in a room and on a couch for days, surrounded by asshole dogs is no way to live. It makes one go nuts. Hell, I still feel a little off. I keep thinking today is Sunday…
I don’t really care about the brain cell loss, as long as it doesn’t affect my creativity. I don’t need to learn any more science and I’m never going to figure out what pi equals, so fuck it. Let’s hope all the losses are on that side of the brain.
Maybe it enhanced my crazy a little. My bat-shit meter feels like it’s gone up a bit and that’s good. Lots of new writing ideas, I’m just moving at a snail’s pace to get them out.
Maybe I need some more Gatorade…
It sure hasn’t helped my temperament. My inner Satan comes out whilst healing. Running errands for the first time since I went under, during Black Friday was fun. Several people lost their heads.
Anyway. The bitch is back. A little crazier, a little more pissed off and a little off kilter, but I’m here. From here on out I’ll attempt to keep the steady stream of bullshit flowing.
Fingers crossed I don’t get sick again.
Check out the blog on it's home site @
www.hihaveyoumetme.com for previous writings and more.
Don’t forget to stalk me further at https://twitter.com/#!/hihaveyoumetme orhttp://www.facebook.com/authorkatemonahan