Now that I’ve officially made my dad proud by quoting Allan Sherman, let’s talk about where I’ve been. which is to say, nowhere, really, except a one-way ticket to monoville.
Getting mono is one of those things that changes significantly from childhood to adulthood, like getting your appendix out. Getting mono in middle school is fucking amazing for your cred: you got it because you had hot make-outs with someone, you get to miss a week or two of school and play video games, and you come back with a sexy story about fighting at death’s door and beating the odds.
Getting mono as an adult sucks. You feel kind of gross for a week or so, figuring it’s probably due to the humidity and month-long drought the county’s been suffering. You make it through the work day just sort of skating on the pile of urgent stuff, while the less urgent stuff piles up in drifts around you. You eventually sort through the less-urgent piles searching for things that are now urgent. You go home to sleep, and wake up three or four hours later, sweat-soaked and dry-mouthed. And you think well this sucks, but it’s normal.
After a week of the work->bed->couch->bed cycle, a couple of rashes, eventually you wake up one morning with the lymph nodes in your neck standing out like goose eggs and you’re like “Well, shit son.” I’ve mentioned this before, but a few years ago I tested positive for ANA, one of the markers for lupus, but I didn’t have any of the usual other problems (aside from fatigue) that point to a diagnosis. But when things start acting up, I decided to go to the walk-in clinic.
“No, it’s not auto-immune, I don’t think,” the doctor says, “Looks like mono to me.” She sends me off to get blood taken, the results of which will take two weeks to arrive (aw bless your face Canadian health care). “In the meantime, is there anything I can do?” I ask. “Nope!” she says cheerfully, “Viral infections don’t respond to much. Sleep as much as you can, take lots of fluids.”
So that’s what I’m continuing to do, in between still going to work, because here’s the thing about adulthood – very few jobs let you take a week or two off to sleep off an unconfirmed diagnosis of an illness while your friend brings you homework to look at, laugh and go back to sleeping with a PS2 controller in your hand.
Although, my desk does have a sweet overhang that would create a perfect napping nook…