A thought on Sickness
A thought on Sickness
Okay, I’ve been sick the last 24 hours. Not just feeling bad, mind you, but really sick with the puking, fever and hole nine yards. With so much time on my hands to do nothing but wallow in my own misery, I thought I’d consider what symptom I hated most among all the symptoms I had.
Throwing up – If I had thrown up as much as my body wanted me to, I’d have spent hours hugging the porcelain thrown. When I refused, my body creatively threw me a twist. The acid-reflux hiccup fit. Burp, hiccup, hiccup, ouch. Bla-gurggle. Spew. Not my favorite symptom, but definitely a contender for the worse.
Cold Sweats – What is this? I can be simultaneously burning up and freezing, which seems like a physical impossibility without the use of quantum physics. If it weren’t for the fact that I have both laughed and cried simultaneously while in a state of sexual bliss, cold sweats could be a symptom of a larger problem that might actually make me go see a doctor. But as I have never gone to the doctor as a result of a massive orgasmic fit, I can see no reason to go because cold sweats are just another way the creator has played a joke on us.
The Runs – Aptly named because that is what you end up doing a lot of, running. Sitting in your easy chair, then wham, time to take a shit. There isn’t any debating it, or trying to pinch it off, you have the thrust of a titan rocket about to exhaust out your sphincter valve. If you don’t get to the porcelain-launching platform, there is no telling what direction you will go.
Combinations – Throwing up while expelling your guts should be classified as an Olympic event, like figure skating. Anybody who successfully manages to do this shows extreme agility and quick decision-making skills.
Grogginess –You don’t know where you are, and you don’t really care. Walking is a task, but trying to stand will result in one of the other symptoms overwhelming you.
I hate being sick.
Okay, I’ve been sick the last 24 hours. Not just feeling bad, mind you, but really sick with the puking, fever and hole nine yards. With so much time on my hands to do nothing but wallow in my own misery, I thought I’d consider what symptom I hated most among all the symptoms I had.
Throwing up – If I had thrown up as much as my body wanted me to, I’d have spent hours hugging the porcelain thrown. When I refused, my body creatively threw me a twist. The acid-reflux hiccup fit. Burp, hiccup, hiccup, ouch. Bla-gurggle. Spew. Not my favorite symptom, but definitely a contender for the worse.
Cold Sweats – What is this? I can be simultaneously burning up and freezing, which seems like a physical impossibility without the use of quantum physics. If it weren’t for the fact that I have both laughed and cried simultaneously while in a state of sexual bliss, cold sweats could be a symptom of a larger problem that might actually make me go see a doctor. But as I have never gone to the doctor as a result of a massive orgasmic fit, I can see no reason to go because cold sweats are just another way the creator has played a joke on us.
The Runs – Aptly named because that is what you end up doing a lot of, running. Sitting in your easy chair, then wham, time to take a shit. There isn’t any debating it, or trying to pinch it off, you have the thrust of a titan rocket about to exhaust out your sphincter valve. If you don’t get to the porcelain-launching platform, there is no telling what direction you will go.
Combinations – Throwing up while expelling your guts should be classified as an Olympic event, like figure skating. Anybody who successfully manages to do this shows extreme agility and quick decision-making skills.
Grogginess –You don’t know where you are, and you don’t really care. Walking is a task, but trying to stand will result in one of the other symptoms overwhelming you.
I hate being sick.
posted by Ron Pitts at 7:22 AM
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