Sick One

I'm typing! Woo! Hold on, let me sit down. Okay. I was typing on the water cooler. I set up an IV drip with gatorade utilizing the water cooler, so I had to take it with me. Yes, it does burn like hell.

I'm sipping on fresh-squeezed orange juice right now. Made it myself. That's how unsick I am, baby. Come we me, we wh'rule theh waruld! AHAHAH*hack*.

Now begins my story...seeing's how this is the first day I had the strength to make a blog post.



It all began on the morning of the 11th of February. "Matten down the starboard rutter-side monkey-cage!" yelled Ted, one of my antiviral germ thingers. "Whooo! Is that the one with the red or green switches on it?!" replied Anthony, another one of my antiviral germ thingers.
"The one that's blue!" screamed back Ted. "Oh, the bloody blue one, why didn't you just say that!" Anthony replied.

Enter the germs. Ever seen that scene...oh, by the way, it's really badly portrayed, but Ted and Anthony are drunk. Ever seen that scene in the Matrix where Neo and Trinity are going to save Morpheus, and they enter and kill all those people in the hall? Just like that.

So Neo and Trin killed Ted and Anthony, and got in the gate. Then they travelled down to my legs and began destroying dams. This was the first day, by the way. That hurt like hell. Like six hours I was in agonizing pain, some of the worst pain in my life. Then I finally took Aspirin. I mean really, like every minute I would let out a groan of agony. Then I took the Aspirin.

"WHASSUP!" yelled Aspione, too loudly. "I got killed and have a hangover," replied Ted. "YOYOYO WHEYTHEYGO??!!?" Aspione asked. "They went to destroy the leg dams!" answered Anthony. "Yo. Yo. Wazz!" replied Aspione. They all got a good laugh out of that.

So Aspione and his gang made their way down to my legs, they made a wrong turn though, and had to beat the hell out of a white blood cell. Anyways, they made it, and Neo and Trin were just about to push a plunger. It went like this:

Aspione: STOP, VILE FIEND! (really deep, un-gangster hero voice)
Neo: Trin! Get them!
Aspitwo: WAAAAAAAAAZ! (warcry)
Trin: AHH!
Aspione: LET'S GET 1972 ON THESE GERM-FOO'S!
Neo: Dude!

(Trin is thrown off side of dam, with punching effects such as "BLAM!" and "WAP!")

Neo: You'll uhh, never defeat me, I am only one in a long line of killer hothouse germs dedicated to destruction and destroying things which are organically organic! Ever see those hothouse tomato things? I'LL BE THERE!

(Neo jumps off side of dam)

Aspione: Looks likanotha' mission accomplished completedly, team! YO YO WAZZ
Aspitwo: Yeah, whew, I need to sit down.
AspiTeam: NOOOOOWAZZ! (unisen, there are like 10 of them)
(Aspitwo sits on plunger, realizes at last second and looks at camera with *oops* look on face)
(explosion)



HAha hah. They got themselves some Home Mission Movie gold, there. "Hey Aspitwo, remember that time you sat on that plunger?" "Yeah, I remember, classic right?" Anyways, they got rid of the Neo and Trin germs. They were trouble causers. Then I got to sleep peacefully...oh, I slept so well. This was I think still the first day, right after I finished the 50th blog post I began to feel the full force of the sickness.

I got to sleep at say 7:30, and woke up at 10:30. Both times are PM. I realized I couldn't breath. Not through my nose, and oh my, my throat hurt. BAD. Horrifcally. You know, the bold-and-italic bad...I went in and collapsed on my Mom's bed. "Mommy, your son's is DYAN1" I exclaimed as loud as I could. "SAVES ME FROM THE PAINS'S AFORE THEY TAKE OUT MY PRECIOous LIVER!!"

I hurt so much, she had to, on a work day, go to the store eight miles away and get me some cough drops at 11:30 PM. It hurt so much, I couldn't drink water. I got dehydrated.

I took 15+ cough drops within an hour. Major overdose. So I got to sleep, right. For a few hours, and I had ZOMBIE dreams. Yes, zombie dreams. I dreamt that Zombies had taken over, and I was in a post-apocalyptic world of zombie-themed horrors. I was going around to different towns, all zombie infested. Then when I would wake up, I was convinced I had found some place to sleep, and tried my best to not wake up so I would be able to escape the horror for a little bit through, you guessed it, having more zombie dreams.

In hindsight, which is always 20/20, it might not of been the best idea to escape my horrific dreams by going back to sleep.

Our air conditioner is out. So it's just a wee bit hot at night sometimes. I thought we had no electricity, read the zombies. All of it made sense. It wouldn't be this hot in the house unless the zombies ate the power lines. It took me two hours after finally waking up to accept the world wasn't zombie-eaten.

And I mean it. I thought all was lost for about two hours. I mean, no one told me. I kinda thought everyone was suffering like I was. I was depressed and scared, and for some reason I couldn't accept everything was fine in the world, you know, for the few hours. As far as zombies go. I was certain there was no hope. Even once I was better, zombies would still rule. Dhimmitude-esque brutality was all I had to look forward to.

Remember that show Monster Rancher? It was like, Pokemon v1. Here's the theme song. Just replace "monster" with "zombie" and put "Kev" in place of anything that needs to be changed to "Kev," and you have a pretty accurate description of my horror-filled night.

Oh, and if you're lame enough to admit you can watch it, here's the third part of episode 1. It explains why my brother names every single rat he's ever owned Mochi.


Speaking of lame anime, why hasn't Ash grown up any in the forty years he's been on TV? I mean, his voice turned freakishly gross...you know, he sounds like, ah, I don't know. Let's see. How do I put it...well, you can imagine if you've heard his new voice. His old voice was done by a chick, right? Well, this new voice was done by an anteater. Crazy stuff, huh? It turns out, all he ever says is "I choose you" and "Pikachu" and "we're best of friends." So they just had to get the anteater to say all three and loop it for 17 minutes on each episode.


It wasn't SO horrific until I made myself some soup (heated in a pie plate; we ran out of dishes fast, and it was heated in the toaster oven as we do not have a microwave) and I guess, before it was heated up, I ate one square of chicken. I do not know what it was, but it made me vomit. Hard. I had a Milla Jovovich-at-end-of-Resident-Evil reaction to the uh, effects of stomach acid on my sore throat. Except I was crawling on the floor. And I had a surprising lack of needles to pull out of my head.


I was in agony from that point on. As it was already, I couldn't swallow without extreme pain. Now it was glass. I suffered, and my Mom went in to fill my Pa' up with his $40 (40 is all they'll let you have in Work Furlough; he needs to buy coffee and dinner and stuff). Then she came back home, missing work. I was so sick she had to miss a day of work. This was Monday...she was right, it got TONS easier to deal with during the day. Wonder why?

It passed somewhat uneventfully. I do believe she got some foodstuffs. More coughdrops, bananas, juices of all shapes. I suffered tons. I didn't sleep much, either. Then that night came. And I had slept 3 hours at the most during the day. Earlier in the night, like, 11:30 PM, I went and talked to my Mom some. I informed her that, sadly, she was missing another day of work. So I went back to my room, and at about 2 AM fell asleep. Finally.

At 2:30, the only problem was that I was sleeping with my ultra-heavy-birthday-blanket. I pulled it up over my head somehow, somewhy. Then I started suffocating.

Breath. I woke up at this point, I think, I dunno. I think we keep a log of stuff that happens when we're sleeping, and this was it. Breath. breath. Heavier breath. Breath. Breath. BREATH. BREATH. Then I started hyperventilating. Four times. I threw the covers off of my face and started violently pushing around my bed trying to escape the clutches of the pain. I figured, I must be able to escape. There HAS to be a way to escape. I had to get out. I tried. I was violently pushing about my bed trying to escape. Pretty crazy, huh?

It took me like 10 minutes to accept I was trapped. It was weird. I felt like a fish out of water.

At this point it was about 3 AM, I went and told my Mom, and ate a banana, and she headed off to get me a vaporizer. I entertained myself by watching Alan on Cookin' in Brooklyn, and that dude on Take Home Chef. He is awesome. Alan made tropical salsa. I couldn't eat at this point, and boy, that pineapple and mango and stuff looked delicious.

Oh, by the way, the stomach acid from the day before was wearing off. I was starting to hurt less, and things were looking up!...then at 3:30 AM I sat up in my bed and accidentally coughed up some banana. Owies. I mean, wow. It didn't hurt at first, but it was a 'jump off a cliff' moment. You know, where you're glad you don't have a gun in your mouth. Then it started to burn. Badly. Oh boy. It had started again.

I forget when it was, but at some point I started being upset with God. This is no way for a person to be sick. I mean, WHY? I can understand achiness. And being exhausted. No energy- fine fine, all of it will make us rest. But EXTREME achiness? Coughing whilst our throat is on fire? Feeling like we're swallowing glass? Inability to eat or drink? Man.

Later I felt bad, and I thought I should send God a letter, and I thought "On the title, I'd put "Sorry I was Cross with you."" Then I realized, you know, cross. Oh man, sorry! I had seriously not realized what I said. I found it a bit silly though. It was the same as when that chick was taking a shower, and the commercial asked "Could you survive without water?" and I, without any authorization from my concious brain, said "Monkey can." I got a good laugh out of that.

The cross joke was just in bad taste though, and I'da felt bad if I did it on purpose. I wish I was in Israel. Then I could push prayers through the wall them Jews got going on. I saw the most awesome spelling of Jew the other day. Joooo. Or Joooos. It's so perfect! I saw it on JihadWatch.com, which I highly recommend. ESPECIALLY read the comments. Seriously. You learn tons.


So my Mom got back, and she brought Zicam. It occured to me, that if Jesus was a medication, he would be Zicam. So I took a dose, boy, it hopped me up faster'n jumper cables. I think the first ingredient is cocaine. That stuff is wiggy. I was hyper for three hours. It didn't help my throat much, but this throat spray supposedly did. I took five sprays, and it didn't help. It took down 50% of the ache- enough to allow me to eat. I forget what I ate...but I went to sleep whilst still hyper off that stuff. I remember how violently I slept. I SLAMMED the light on. And the light was a twist-styled switch, you know...like on a normal lamp. I VIOLENTLY turned that light on and spat then VIOLENTLY SHUT THE MFER OFF AND WENT BACK TO FKING SLEEP. "LEAVE ME THE FK ALONE DAMMIT. WHAT THE **** YOU SORRY ****** I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO NEVER SHOW YOUR FACE IN THIS TOWN AGAIN! ***! *****! ***** **** *** *** ********!!!"


I talk in my sleep. Imagine how I talked when I was hopped up on Zicam. Whew. Oh, I think the morning of my Zicam taking was when my brother got his sore throat.

This was when I realized why I got sick. It was so I could help my brother survive his sickness. God had obviously planned it that way. I could tell my Mom stuff. "Right now, he can't eat, and he can't yell at us-- that's bothering the hell out of him. The most he could eat is this or that, and Zicam will allow him to eat, but only mush."

You shoulda seen him hopped up on Zicam. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Once the Zicam wore off of me, I got up of course. Took more aspirin. I was dying...but I think I'm going to postpone the second half. This is turning out to be a long post.

Song of the Day is Breakfast by the Newsboys. I'm considering going to their April 5th concert. Tickets are like $25. The question is, will I get murdered while there?

To be continued.