Hey Hey~ Pay Attention to me!

I thought of a sickness story for you. It involves my whole week!

Sunday: I woke up feeling like ass. Everything hurt i felt like a spiked demon had crawled into my mouth while i slept and attached to my tonsil. My nose started oozing copious amounts of fluids. I considered the option of death as i layed in my bed until 6am wheezing and drowning in my own secretion.

Monday: As i staggered down the stairs my father looks at me."You look like crap!..uh..not to be mean or anything its just that...welll..." I think i croaked out a thank you as i rummaged through the drawers for a knife to cut my tonsils out. My father eventually took pity on me and made me an appointment with my Doctor. After a few hums and ews. He mumbles something like "nnaasssty" after looking in my ears, nose and throat. He also seemed skeptical about my only having felt sick for one day ahead of this. I immadiately began picturing all the illnesses I could have.

Side note: I seem to teeter on the line of normal and hypochondria. Usually i fall over the line and begin to imagine that I have cancer, or will need some sort of transplant. I begin to think of what life would be like IF....

Tuesday: After another night of wheezing and drowning in my own snot, I was even more exhausted. I began to actually consider that my doctor was wrong and I had a horrible illness and not just a severe infection. I remember laying in my bed, whistless and praying to the gods to have pity on me. They pitied me by adding a painful hacking cough to my list. Eventually it occured to me that the annoying noise I kept hearing was someone at the door. After i staggered down the stairs gingerly whiping my red nose and coughing like i was fighting for my last breath, I finally made it to the door. There stood a giant, hair, dirty man."Wow, are you going to die? You look horrible!," exclaims my new giant. Apparently this man didnt know what tact was. I told him i have the plague and he was going to die just for looking at me. He seemed a little uncomfortable. Hell if i know why though.

Tuesday Night: I had determined that I was going to sleep if it killed me. It nearly did. I took my prescribed meds, rubbed some vicks, and drank some tea. Shortly after settling into bed with my book to watch Glee, I had to pee. I dragged my listless body from bed and immediately collapsed. After attempting and failing a few times to get up I decided to just lay down for a bit and hope to not pee myself. I remember staring at a crumpled tissue as if it was my sole reason for surviving. Eventually I made it to my feet. The world would not stop titling! I made it to the bathroom, which was no small accomplishment as I nearly fell down the stairs. After falling asleep on the toilet for no specified amount of time I began to worry. It crossed my mind to wake my dad so he could decide if i needed a doctor. But, since his surgery, he can not drive. If i woke him I would still have to get myself there, which clearly was not going to happen. Eventually after a few false starts, I made it back to bed. I prayed that I would wake up.


By the way,judging by the hail outside. It's a good thing I already made myself collect the trash. Yipes