I guess I'll do my usual routine to get through this -- Apple-cider vinegar; Echinacea; lots of purified water; Ricolas; some wild, organic blueberries -- and I'll be fine in a few days. I'll just open this window and let all the germs out and the fresh air in. In nature these things have to run their course, and I think a certain oneness with the outside world makes us all feel better.
I should probably double up on the Echinacea to take the edge off this mild fever. Funny, I usually feel better by now, but this is a tough one. The trick is to drink as much water as possible to fully cleanse the system. Just breathe in the good, healthy energy. Out with the ugly, negative energy. In and out. That's right: You can cure yourself. The power is within you.
Screw you, Echinacea, you lying dirt flower.
I'm gonna need more Advil, Dayquil, Nyquil, and Mucinex, and Windex to clean the mucous off my hands. And can someone please get this vile-tasting water away from me? It smells like Trenton.
OK, things are better. I just need to relax and get the upper hand. I can conquer this without getting myself even sicker by visiting a doctor's office. After all, what is a doctor's office but a germ-filled poison-pill and X-ray factory. I will calmly drink this tincture of Chlorox and Drano, and hopefully that will free my nasal passages and enable me to avoid chopping off my own head.
"Yes, this is Stephanie Lessing. I'd like to make an appointment to get some anti-flu medicine, a chest X-ray, and a home delivery of several oxygen tanks, a wheelchair, a catheter, and whatever else you're selling."
Two Hours Later
"What do you mean it's too late for anti-flu medicine, Doctor? I didn't even know there was such a thing. I made that up as a joke to get you to give me something else. You actually have anti-flu medicine somewhere in this building, and you refuse to give it to me? And who's to say I don't have a high-enough fever for antibiotics either? Can't you see that my body is both a phony and a liar? It's always been a liar. Ask my scale. I can't possibly weigh what it says I weigh. No one my size weighs that. Small men weigh less. It's always been against me. Ever since I was a little girl. Please believe me. I need the medicine. Get me the medicine or you'll be reading about this in the paper!"
"Hello, is this the on-call doctor? It is? Oh, great. First I'd like to thank you for getting back to me so quickly. And has anyone ever told you that you have the voice of an angel? You see, just yesterday I was in to see my regular doctor , and she wanted to give me antibiotics, but I mistakenly said no because, in my delirium, I could swear she'd asked me if I was anti-abortion. Since then my fever has spiked to 100.4, and I may have developed arthritis in both my hips from coughing. That's right: 100.4. Exactly the fever one needs to get antibiotics for what is most likely flu-related bronchitis. In addition to this hacking cough that has persisted for more than five days, I have a clear, yellow, white or green phlegm, and I'm also experiencing general malaise. What's that? No, I'm not reading WebMD. My phlegm is all those colors."
I love you, Levofloxacin. I've always loved you, and I will happily tell the world that you're the only thing that really matters to me now. Right after I shut my window. After all, it's pretty cold out there, and everyone has the flu.
For more, visit stephanielessing.com.
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