Let me take you back to Monday night. There I was sitting on my couch in my palatial 1 bedroom apartment in New York City, as I do most nights. Since I was very healthy in January, I have since fallen off the wagon and have returned to my normal life of ordering in every meal from Seamless. And that's not an exaggeration or anything, I am back to my old ways of eating out or ordering in every last piece of food I put in my body. Not cheap! Not sustainable! Not healthy! Not smart! But alas, it's what I did all of 2019 and I'm back on my bullshit again.
So while browsing the many options, I decided "hey, why don't I just get something super unhealthy and then turn my life around tomorrow?" So I ordered from a BBQ place and got the brisket platter with mac and cheese. When it arrived I was overwhelmed by the amount of mac and cheese. Not just the quantity, but it was the most abundantly cheesy macaroni and cheese I've ever had. Layers upon layers upon layers of cheese.
Immediately after finishing it I felt sick. Which I expected because I just ate 3,000 calories and I'm also supposed to limit my gluten and dairy intake, ironically enough. So basically I ate the worst possible thing I could eat, felt awful afterwards, and went immediately to bed.
What I did not expect, however, was to wake up on Tuesday morning still feeling like a dump. I had the chills and could barely move. Achey bones left and right. And of course my dumb ass could only think "wow, that mac and cheese sure did a number on me". But thank goodness I had the foresight to stay home from work, because it only got worse.
Tuesday night I went back and forth between freezing and sweating 100 different. Snip snap snip snap, my body temperature was more of a roller coaster than Penn stock.
Same story Wednesday, especially at night. By the way, one of the weirdest phenomenons is how you can feel find during the day but then when the sun goes down your temperature sky rockets to a billion degrees. Not cool, man. Not cool.
Then yesterday I was basically dead. I was profusely sweating through my clothes looking like I was a fat kid running around the track in PE class. It was abysmal. And what is nuts is when you have this sort of sickness while the Coronavirus is all the rage, you can't help but wonder if you have it. Like, I knew it was pretty much impossible for me to have it, but at the same time, who knows who might have sneezed into my macaroni and cheese, ya know? That's the scary part, it only takes one small sneeze and it's all over for you.
So at this point on Thursday afternoon, PFT officially diagnosed me with the coronavirus because I told him I couldn't make it to the Caps game at MSG, which is a very fair assessment. Like, only a deadly disease would keep me from that. Kayce called me pleading for me to go to the doctor. Trent lit my desk on fire. It was mayhem. But I still was just waiting for it to pass. And then around 6pm last night I hit a wall. I was done. I couldn't lift my head. I decided it wasn't the mac and cheese virus and I should probablyyyyy go see a doctor.
In the most valiant act of bravery ever witnessed in the history of the world, I walked over to the nearest Urgent Care. 4 whole blocks! When I got there, everyone was wearing masks and it looked like a scene out of a zombie apocalypse movie. I signed in and then a nurse took me back. She was hot! I then had to tell her my height and weight out loud, which was worse than any potential results she could have given me. She took my temperature and it was a smooth 101, which was exciting as usually I'm in the 97-98 range. Then she swabbed my nose for the flu, brought in the doctor, and boom, no coronavirus. "Flu strain B" she told me through her Bane mask. I was saddened by the news. What a let down. Everyone at work was rooting for me to have the coronavirus, such supportive friends, and I let them down.
So here we are on Friday afternoon. Still have a fever. 5 days of a fever is really not cool man. Like, I'm pretty over it. That's why I was rooting to have coronavirus because then at least it'd be exciting. If you don't think me having coronavirus would be sold by the sales team you are nuts. I'd be on CNN talking about healthcare n shit I know nothing about from my 1 bedroom quarantined apartment, getting in plugs for Quip and Me Undies.
But unfortunately I just got the basic ass flu. Well not the ass flu. My ass is fine. But the basic flu. Really hoping this thing breaks soon because my hands are god damn icicles typing this blog. It's weird when you're sick you kinda forget what it feels like to be healthy. And I make this promise to you- when I'm better, no more mac and cheese. Gym 5 days...ok 4 days a week. I'm 31 god damn years old, enough living like a 19 year old already. Well probably not, this is such classic "I swear I'll get my life together I swear" but honestly realistically nothing is going to change.
And so that's my tale of having the flu. At the end of this sentence this blog is 967 words. So now I just need to type more words to get it to a clean 1,000. 17 more to go. How now brown cow. Have a good weekend everyone. Gosh bless you all.