I'm trying out something new here. People has been asking if I could start a blog where if questions come up while living in this crazy thing called "life", I would simply write about it, the way I see it. Then I remembered that I already had a blog with my lovely bride-to-be, and decided that I would use this blog (whether people read this thing or not), to rant or vent, but mostly educate the world about how things work up in Kiwon's crazy head. Hence, "Life as I know it" is born.
The first victim of the series is the flu. And no, I'm not talking about the flu in the philosophical sense or even in metaphorical sense. I won't be talking about how this creature named Honey BooBoo (I think that's her name) is getting higher ratings then the political national conventions and how absolutely backwards that is for a country that built the greatest economy and fostered the world's greatest artists of many generations. No. I won't be ranting about that today (but it's coming). Today, I want to talk about one thing. Me being sick with the flu and how I'm sick of being sick with the flu.
Yeah. Know that shit.
Yeah. I hate being sick. You basically have to take a day off, since you don't want to walk the office of your employment with death written all over your sorry face. Never mind the fact that you got this virus from someone in your office that walked up to you with death when HE should have stayed home, and never you mind that you should have taken copious amounts of vitamin-c to give your body a fighting chance. Never mind all that. I just hate being sick. You stay home, but your body cannot do anything fun. You basically curl up with all your germs and eat some soup and watch some jesus-awful tv until you can't take it anymore and you watch Scrubs methodically season by season, because you are convinced that watching someone worse off than you are (they have a lot of sick people dying in Scrubs), helps with your healing process somehow (note that this is both sick and delirious since it's just a tv show that has little to do with the patients themselves but the doctors' lives and how the hospital plays a big part in that).
Side note: Scrubs, I find, and so does a lot of people in the medical field (by my research, at least one), is the best portrayal of the life of those who want to keep us alive. Grey's weird anatomy just copied the format of Scrubs and any other psychological medical dramas are just there because you have nothing better to do during Mondays (yeah... me, too). Moving on...
It's the worst if the weather is actually nice outside, like yesterday. A beautiful Monday by my standards and the birds were chirping and the kids were frolicking as usual. God I hated those healthy children. Damn kids with their smiles and laughs. Aren't they supposed to be in school? Stupid parents. I can't shut the windows because I am again convinced that I need fresh air for my sickness to go away, but can't bear those care-free creatures having the time of their lives. So, I tried sleeping. Turns out, my body is so tuned to the work life, that it's impossible to take a real nap. I woke up every 10 minutes on the dot. And on all those times, I was sweating for some reason. Drink some water, rinse, repeat.
I will say one thing for me. I am awesome at taking medicine on time. Ask my better half. I take it on the dot every four hours. I make taking medicine my bitch. I am so doped up by end of the day that I figure I'm okay to function as a contributing person of the society. This, sadly, comes crashing down when I start to get out of bed and you start sweating. Anyone that knows me or has seen me will say that I'm a skinny person (I say slim). The flu always makes me feel like one of those people from The biggest loser.
The meals are fine unless you eat the wrong thing (always a gamble, since you never really know when your body is ready to eat beyond the age of 2), and having to sit or hunch over the toilet hating life again. When that passes and it's inevitably bed time, for some reason, is the hardest for me. Falling asleep is a chore and everything decides to clog up for me when I need to sleep the most. So, the result is me waking up every two hours and having to shuffle my weary body from bed to the bathroom to sigh and let out a tiny curse, "faaaccccc...."
All I am saying is that we can all agree to hate za flu. It does no one any good (except if Hitler had the flu while he was still alive, I would praise the flu for making that dick feel bad), and worst of all, it made me feel like absolute crap for four days. Seriously flu... go fak yourself.
K.
