It seems I picked up a cold at the holiday party last weekend. No, not on the 18th… on the 11th. Life has short-changed me a week this December. Anyone have a spare?
Back in college when I worked for an ambulance service, my immune system occasionally got bored crushing hapless microbes, so it would stalk the neighborhood while I slept and murder common household pests. But now, apparently-healthy people can infect me with the Sumerian Death Flu from polite conversational distance.
On the bright side, the Sumerian Death has more than made up for any weight I gained over the holidays. Unfortunately, this weight loss took the form of blowing my own brains into a kleenex every morning. (There's certainly no way that much gunk could have fit in my sinuses alone.) I coughed a few additional organs into the bathroom sink, but I didn't take the time to identify them.
Concerned by these developments, I turned to the foremost medical authorities of our age — WebMD and eMedicine — and searched for my symptoms:
- Cessation of useful life functions.
- Brain expelled through nose.
- Most abdominal organs missing.
Based on this perfectly accurate description of my condition, they recommended the following cure:
- Dehydrate soft tissues with natron salts.
- Rinse chest cavity with palm wine, frankincense, and myrrh.
- Rub exterior with cedar and lotus oils.
- Bandage with linen.
- Store horizontally in a dry, dark place.
I'm feeling better already, mostly due to a huge head start on that last step.
There is one lasting side effect of this cure: I will lay a dread curse upon anyone I catch rummaging through my books, computers, or other personal effects… but I already did that anyway.