As I recover from my most recent disease known as the common cold, I reflect on all the thoughts that consistently plagued my mind during that god-forbidden time. Considering that this was my first cold in two years, I found this experience to be particularly daunting due to my crippled immune system. I have decided to share these thoughts with you all in an attempt put my suffering into words and provide hope for anyone else going through such trauma. Sorry in advance.
Day 1: Dang, my throat is a little sore. I probably shouldn’t have left my window open before bed while it was literally snowing. I guess I’ll just take a Covid test and some medicine so that I’ll be better by tomorrow.
Day 2: I don’t have Covid but…my throat…is more sore than yesterday…no worries haha. I’ll just take more medicine and I will definitely not be sick tomorrow.
Day 3: *Loses Voice* Okay. I don’t remember the common cold being this bad lol hahaha hahahaa it’ll all be fine. *starts mixing medicine*
Day 4: Golly gee this cold is really kicking my buttocks. It’ll be better soon I am sure.
Day 5: Dying. Death. Deathbed. Can’t breathe. Death.
Day 6: *googles the symptoms of tonsillitis* *Convinces myself I have tonsillitis* *Mother completely ignores me because she knows I do not have tonsillitis* *Finds out I indeed do not have tonsillitis*
Day 7: *acceptance*