Thoughts On My Faulty Immune System

Being sick sucks. This is a universal truth. In fact, when you’re sick nothing else seems to matter other than you being sick. Which is why I’m writing about being sick. It is also why I’ve used sick in all but one sentence thus far.

I’ve tried to narrow down what is the worst part of being sick (I did it again!). I guess you could say coughing is the worst part. Especially the involuntary coughs that happen. You know, when you’re laying in bed and all of a sudden your body heaves.

Or it could be sneezing. It hurts the nose and makes a silly noise and it sometimes just won’t stop.

Or it could be the act of blowing your nose when you’re very congested. Sure it feels good when you first do it, but then you have to do it again and again. It’s like it doesn’t really work (I understand that science refutes this). And plus, because of all this blowing my nose I’ve shaved my make shift beard. Which means that my face is cold and I look like I’m 12 again.

Or it could be the constant flucuation of feeling hot and cold. One moment you’re stripping down and the next you’re bundling up. It’s tiring.

Or it could be the taste of certain medicines. I took Theraflu today and my god it tastes like the blackberry schnapps liqueur Black Haus. It’s just terrible. Just seeing photos of bottles of the stuff is enough to make my stomach let me know that I should never subject it to that liquid again.

So these are all thoughts on how being sick sucks and why it sucks.

It also kind of shuts down my mind. So the things I write are exceptionally bland when I’m sick. Apparently I’ve been sick for my entire life.

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