Breathe Again

Earlier tonight, lyrics from Toni Braxton’s 1993 hit Breathe Again playback prominently in my head as a clutch a box of kleenex.

Please understand if love ends
Then I promise you, I promise you
That, that I shall never breathe again
Breathe again
Breathe again
That I shall never breathe again
Breathe again

Oh no, it’s not “just another sad love song rackin’ my brain like crazy”, rather I was starting to think I’d never breathe again. Literally.

Last Thursday I caught the plague *cough* (common cold) from who knows where and have been carrying it around little more than a week, whining about it and feeling all around miserable. If people weren’t already sick of me complaining all over social media, I also have to blog about it and make allegories that tie in with early 1990s pop divas, because well, that seems entirely fitting to me. This is how I do suffering, through melodramatic cries for sympathy, and oh boy yes I want your pity, love, and commiseration when I’m feeling like The Illest.

I rarely ever catch a cold especially during crunch time at work. Even when I do, it always lands on a holiday, in which case, I am better before I go back to work. This time was different, sitting in my office my coworker comes by and mentions that our office is freezing, meanwhile I’m sitting in a cold sweat, mumbling in half hearted false agreement “um yeah sure” with as chipper a voice as I can muster, trying to not let on that I could be patient zero on our floor. I’m usually not that asshole that goes to work when sick, but this is a pivotal week for my projects.

Meanwhile, my nose oscillates between a downpour and the Hoover Dam, and I exclaim a cry out a mock desperation half truth “Today the role of Jessica will be played by a red nosed reindeer” as the skin surrounding my nostrils begins to peel. Classy. Finally the shivering cold sweats, sinus headache, and mucus caked throaty voice that I now possess tell me that I need to go see a doctor. My self treating Dayquil/Nyquil home remedy has not been working out over the course of the week and I’m just getting worse.

Get to the doctors and they mention I am a little warm, but not in the danger zone. They take my symptoms and tell me the best medicine is rest, but mention if I want instant comfort there are 4 drugs I should take.

Laid one red pill, a blue pill and 2 green pills out on the counter top, and while I got myself glass for water wondered what would have Morpheus done if Neo ate both pills and some green pills? Honestly! What kind of trip would Neo have had?

A trip to “I can breathe again town”, I can happily say now. I’m hoping this isn’t just temporary, and or if it is, I don’t acclimate to my miracle drugs.

I loathe being sick, but that begs the question, “Does anyone love being sick?” Before I get any answers I’m exhausted, and can now retire to my blanket burrito without having to toss and turn to drain my nose for the rest of this lovely holiday weekend.

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