One thing that hasn't changed about me is my shockingly horrible immune system. Yes, I am sick, AGAIN.
I have held on the the ability to get not just one germ, but 37 different kinds at the same time and break out into every known illness, I think this time its Ebola with a touch of the Black Plague. I'm almost proud of myself.
If the fevers, chills, shivering, teeth chattering and violent muscle spasms would let me get some real rest I'm sure I would be bragging all day.
And what am I doing about this? Not. One. Damn. Thing.
I mean, besides whining. That I am a champ at. I take Advil or Tylenol every two hours, swapping them off so as to keep the fever down to a level of moderate delirium. I am bleaching down everything I touch at work and not letting people come near me. Toast and tea. And sucking it up and going to work.
But you know what, I CAN. And that fucking rocks the socks. Even when I feel that I am going to fall over and die any second because there is no way I will draw another breath or survive this round of coughing, I am not panicking. I am working. I am taking calls, doing my job and doing it well.. so really? Ebola? Fuck you buddy. I might be skirting death but I feel like I'm fucking bullet proof.