Keep your germs off my crap...

I don't get paid sick days, and it sucks.

but it is probably for the best because every time I do fall ill, I convince myself that my illness is something much worse which usually ends up with me thinking that I am going to die.

I'm a wimp.  I will admit that openly because I feel comfortable enough to admit that to the 40 of you that regularly read this blog.  I feel like this is a therapy session in some ways.  I am a baby with a low tolerance of pain, fevers and boogery noses. 

My kid handles being sick better than I do.

I am a bit dramatic. What can I say?  Every time I get sick I try to pinpoint where the illness came from.  Then I whine about it and then eventually I convince myself that this illness/injury will eventually lead to death/disability or put me in a mental institution.

If I have cold symptoms, it's lung disease. A paper cut? I need stitches.  Headache? Tumour. Blurred vision? Stroke (nevermind that I forgot to take my contacts out the night before, that doesn't mean a thing!). Sore arm? Heart attack.  Heartburn? Heart attack.  

One of my greatest enemies is Google.  When I had this weird eye discharge one time I Googled it which ended up having me convinced I had Syphilis.  Then I remembered there was absolutely no possible way I have Syphilis and after an embarrassing appointment I discovered that I am STD free! yaaay (wanna date?).

I guess what I am trying to say here is that you really shouldn't Google your symptoms unless you want to end up naked from the waist down in the middle of winter in a cold room staring at the ceiling and just hearing your doctor walk in from the cold -27 degree weather.  Because that really is neither fun, nor necessary if you would have just went to the eye doctor in the first place to discover that you really just had an eye infection.  Good times, now I'm embarrassed a lot. 

To further embarrass myself, I should probably describe my humiliating hypochondriac problem a little more.  I know a lot of women complain about their husbands being whiners when they are sick, and I have in fact seen many examples of this in person, the fact is, I think I might secretly be a man.  A man who does not have STDs (wanna date?).  This is a pretty shameful confession for someone who lived with someone who had cancer.  I was the one who would yell down the hall, "Honey, when you are done puking and having your hair fall out, could you please run to the pharmacy and get me some NyQuil so I can go into my NyQuil-induced coma now?"

Actually, when we met I was in a NyQuil-induced coma. He should have known better...

Last week I was overcome with a bout of H1N1 the common cold but I still had to go to work because I was still trying to financially recover from the last time I had to miss work when Mason was sick. 

So sometime as I snotted around the office, touching doorknobs, keyboards and photocopier buttons, I noticed a strange trend going on with my office mates.  Nobody would come near me.  Which was kind of nice.  Maybe it was the rolled up Kleenexes shoved up into my nasal passages like disheveled tampons, but I definitely got the vibe that these people really didn't want to be around me, and even worse they had no sympathy for my germs.  Which upset me.  After all, I'm not the only one who spreads germs around that place.  At least I'm not washing my poopy hands for only 2 seconds in the washroom, yes I listen to the sink after you go you jerks.

They pretty much followed me around with Lysol wipes the entire day.  I mean not literally, but if following someone around with Lysol wipes wasn't creepy and/or weird then they totally would have been.  Luckily my office mates are neither creepy and/or weird, sometimes annoying with their renditions of Beyonce's "Halo" but really are a very lovable group of people.

No wait, sometimes they are mean to me like when they make fun of me for things I say that might be stupid.  Like when I told my boss she should flash Andrea Bocelli at his concert.  I didn't know he was blind...I DIDN'T KNOW STOP MAKING FUN YOU JERKS! ...and that's all I have to say about that.

My illness was horrid!  Like you know when you get a cold and either your nose or your chest is congested? My nose AND my chest were congested.  I was pretty sure I was drowning internally by my own boogers. Then the next day I coughed up something that looked like a little yellowish salamander and I felt so much better (sorry was that too much info?). Seriously though, one time I was way sicker than I was last week and I swear I blew a salamander out of my nose.  It was the worst nose pain I have ever felt and I'm pretty sure it enlarged my nasal passage on the way out. Thinking back now that might have been a piece of my lung.  I survived though (yaay me!).

I've been feeling pretty great for a few days now.  Things are pretty much back to normal.  The dishes have been done, the floor has been partially vacuumed and the McDonalds toys that I tripped on every single day last week have been picked up off the living room floor and promptly found themselves in the Goodwill donation bin in the parking lot at my work (shows you for leaving those stupid toys on the floor when I told you to pick them up *shakes fist*).

I came in to work trying to whistle a happy tune, I say trying because I am a terrible whistler.  Seriously, I was whistling this morning.  I take a look around and it's like booger zombie apocalypse all up in my office.  Three people with bright red noses complaining of their boogers and coughing every five seconds.  I recognized those booger and cough symptoms, they caught my germs!

Of course I felt bad, but now I know they must have some sort of sympathy for what I went through because they are experiencing it first hand now.  What can I say? I'm a generous person.