It started out innocent. An itchy throat. Slowly the itch became pain. But I comforted myself, saying “nothing a little tea can’t fix.” But then I began having to clear my throat, and eventually that lead to a cough.
I wasn’t ready to give up yet. “How long can someone cough for? Two days? I’ll be back to my old self in no time.” I continually encouraged my immune system, speaking sweet nothings to it in hopes that my blood cells would make the illness leave my body. These are supposed to be my body's attack dogs. I had faith in them. I remembered learning about this on the magic school bus.
But eventually my meager attempts to encourage my immune system to do its job failed. I lost all hope. The cough took over. I coughed and coughed and coughed. I could no longer enjoy the outside world with my friends.
I couldn’t even say a sentence without breaking into a coughing fit. It left anyone around me unsettled.
Soon my friends got the hint that I wasn’t getting better any time soon, so for the most part they stopped contacting me. Except for a few. Robo Steve gave me cold eeze for Christmas.
I couldn’t go anywhere, or do anything. All I could do was stay home inside my house. I became re-acquainted with my old Playstation 1 and the game “Crash Bandicoot 2.”
I coughed so much that my ribs began to hurt every time I went into one of my fits. And then they became so sore that they hurt any time I did anything, such as celebrate Jenny Gonzales' 18th birthday.
I finally decided that if my immune system wasn’t going to work properly, I would have to take matters into my own hands. I visited the doctor, hoping an expert could help me figure out what was wrong. I hadn't been to a doctor in years. I hadn't even met my doctor before. But I had high hopes. I imagined we would have a magical and informative meeting that would look something like this:
In reality it was nothing liket that. I told the doctor my symptoms, and emphasized the pain in my ribs. But the doctor was no help. She didn't realize that I was looking to get healthy. I think she thought I was making casual conversation.
However, I was given an anti-biotic. I was a bit suspicious at first, but science was on my side.
After a month straight of coughing, it began to slowly fade away. I could make whole sentences again, and go outside without fear of repercussions.
Two weeks after my cough went away, my ribs finally felt normal again. My blood cells just needed a little help from an outside source.
I coughed so much that my ribs began to hurt every time I went into one of my fits. And then they became so sore that they hurt any time I did anything, such as celebrate Jenny Gonzales' 18th birthday.
I finally decided that if my immune system wasn’t going to work properly, I would have to take matters into my own hands. I visited the doctor, hoping an expert could help me figure out what was wrong. I hadn't been to a doctor in years. I hadn't even met my doctor before. But I had high hopes. I imagined we would have a magical and informative meeting that would look something like this:
In reality it was nothing liket that. I told the doctor my symptoms, and emphasized the pain in my ribs. But the doctor was no help. She didn't realize that I was looking to get healthy. I think she thought I was making casual conversation.
However, I was given an anti-biotic. I was a bit suspicious at first, but science was on my side.
After a month straight of coughing, it began to slowly fade away. I could make whole sentences again, and go outside without fear of repercussions.
Two weeks after my cough went away, my ribs finally felt normal again. My blood cells just needed a little help from an outside source.
All that to say, I have had no contact with the outside world for the past month.
To put it in more simple terms:
