I’m just coming off a moderate cold I’ve had for the last week. All the classic symptoms — runny, stuffy nose, congestion, slight headache, yellow phlegm — but oddly enough, barely a hint sore throat. It’s been unpleasant to say the least.

A little while ago, Tiana wrote “I look in the bowl after to see how impressive it was. I’m pretty sure you do too”.

This cold has made me realize that I not only look in the bowl (I’m sure Freud would diagnose us as being fixated in the anal stage of psychosexual development), but I open my Kleenex after blowing in it as well, to check for discoloured mucus, phlegm, blood, or bits of brain that may have escaped through my nose.

I called in sick again today, but this time I didn’t go in.

In Psych 101, you learn that a group of students are sprayed in the face with the cold bacteria during their exams, while a control group is sprayed during the regular school year. The result is that the students going through their finals are more than twice as likely to get sick. Stress lowers the immune system, and the lesson here is that there’s a direct connection between the health of the mind and the body.

Knowing this isn’t enough to prevent it. Sometimes it all adds up, and you get worn down.

Little surprises come in the form of friends offering to pick things up from the pharmacy, people I’ve never even spoken to asking if I’m okay, or care packages from ex-girlfriends, consisting of chocolate bars, vitamin C drops, African peanut soup, a DVD of BMW shorts, and even a get-well-soon card.

It’s been rough going the last few weeks. Every day is a conflict between doing something relaxing, doing the chores that will make me feel comfortable, or going to bed. Even now I can’t relax. I clean my mirrors of fingerprints in between sentences, or brush Dolly of excess fur as she forcefully nudges my wrists in mirth, and only continue writing when I come up with the next idea.

A sore throat and weary body had me calling in sick today (I suspect that I caught something from petting the same cat as Karen yesterday, who’s seems sick as a dog), although I ended up going in and working six hours anyway. All the extra curricular things are slowly wearing me down. There’s the two side-businesses, the new effort of learning as much as I can about my new Canon Rebel XT by photographing everything, and the blogging. I also started table tennis again, although I’m not sure how often I can attend, taking four hours out of a weekday. The one reprieve is a LAN party I’ve had planned since September that starts tomorrow, and even though it’ll be a good weekend of gaming, it’ll still mean little rest. Normally I’m planned, prepared, and practiced for a LAN, but this time it’ll all be improvised.

I’m being tested, and even though I know that I’ll get through this, it’s still difficult. I’m forced to deal with people I’ve avoided my entire life. I’m pushing myself past the limits of anything I’ve ever gone through. To be honest, it’s a little easier than I would have imagined. The strength and confidence that I’ve gained over the last two years has helped tremendously. Knowing that things get done in their own time keeps me from being overwhelmed. If I can make it through this, I’ll be stronger than ever.

I’m lying down, naked from the waist up, giggling uncontrollably. The nurse dampens some tissue with rubbing alcohol, and rubs down my torso methodically. I feel it evaporating off my skin, staring at the ceiling, unsure of anywhere else I could appropriately keep my eyes. Suddenly, there’s a sharply dragging pain on a small area, and I see her making quick, short arm movements in one direction.

“Ow, what is that?”, I ask jovially. I’m still giggling, a result of my nervousness. She picks up on this.

“It’s sandpaper. Haven’t you ever been exfoliated?”

The sandpaper removes the dead skin, making the electrodes stick better.

“Are you telling me that this is going to make my chest glow, and reduce the appearance of any lines and wrinkles?”

She playfully returns, “On these five spots, yes.”

Afterwards, I’m told to sign a form with a short explanation on what is being done, that acknowledges my understanding.

Holter monitoring provides a continuous recording of heart rhythm during normal activity. There is no discomfort associated with the test.

I’m given a journal to record any abnormal heartbeats, whether it’s a skipped beat, an extra beat, or an irregular beat, but for the 24 hours that I’m wearing this device, I don’t write in it once. It’s a guessing game for them, to sort out the what’s normal and what’s not. After any test they do, urine, blood, stool, holter, they say the same thing: we’ll call you if anything shows up in the results.

They always say, no news is good news.

I went in for a few hours of work, which was torture without having consumed more than 40 grams of carbohydrates, 8 grams of protein, and 180 calories in the last three days, but really, I can’t afford to be sick. I’m going to try to make it in for a few more hours tomorrow, if I don’t feel as weak and light-headed, but they already know that I may not be coming in at all. To stave hunger and dehydration, I’ve been drinking as much water as I can before it makes me feel nauseous again.

John also said something that hurt me enough to make me cry (somehow I manage to lose more fluids). Even though his offhand comment was uncalled for, it’s partly my fault; being either hungry, tired, or sick can make me into a very cantankerous person, but all three combined is as dangerous as juggling chainsaws. In reality, it’s no excuse. I’m determined to apologize the next time I speak to him. As starved as I am, pride is always a hard thing to swallow.

I stepped outside in the late evening, wearing my cotton hoodie, and realized that it was still too warm to be wearing anything with sleeves. It felt completely odd to be outside in the dark, when the sun already sets so late this time of year, and still be uncomfortably warm. I was reminded of past summer nights spent with Darren, being in the middle of the park at midnight with nothing but a blackened sky above us and a jungle gym around us. It made me realize that I haven’t been out past sunset since I’ve moved here, something I don’t particularly mind when I have the comfort of a house, a computer, and a housemate.