Spleenless in Seattle

Well, not in Seattle. But I am spleenless. My lack of spleen is due to the staging surgery that was done when I was 15, to determine the extent of my cancer. So now, 15 years later, my immune system can't do shit for shit.

This simple little head cold that my in-laws had when they invited us over a couple of weekends ago has turned into the bastard flu for me. It is a very mean illness. This illness has kicked my ass, knocked me down, and taken my wallet. It stole my car and drove it through Westroads mall, stopping at Godiva to spend $400 of my money on white chocolate, which is my very least favorite kind! This illness broke into my next-door neighbor's house and ran up his phone bill with calls to Guatemala, then took a dump on his living room rug. This illness kicked a puppy. This illness ate the last pop tart and put the empty box back in the cupboard so we would think we had more pop tarts when we don't. This illness is going to leave a tack on your chair, so please check it before you sit down next time.

My left ear is all stuffed up, still. I keep waiting for a liter of water to spill out and my hearing to return completely, like after you get out of a pool and hop on one foot. It hasn't happened yet, and people at work keep looking at me strangely.

I'm on day 4 of the holiest-fuckest of holy-fuck antibiotics. I have one more day of Zithromax, and then it keeps on working for 5 more days on its own. That's just freaky.

If I am not symptom-free by the 13th, they won't take my autologous blood. C'mon body. Kick the bastard flu out on its ass. I'm sick of its shenanigans.