Abigail Chaff
The flu epidemic is spreading across Northeast Ohio and sparing no one. With classes back in session, UA’s campus has become a breeding ground for germs. Going back to school after winter break always brings with it the increased risk of getting sick.
After being free to occupy whatever space you wish, probably a sick person free area, being forced to sit in a classroom is like knocking on death’s door. It seemed like everything was “going around.” First it was the stomach flu, then a chest cold, then the good old fashioned runny nose and the sniffles. If you weren’t sick with one thing, it was another.
A week before class starts for the spring session I usually boost up on vitamin C. I’m pretty sure there is a study somewhere that proves vitamin C cures cancer; either way, it usually turns my antibodies into super heroes who crush any evil germs.
This year I wasn’t so lucky. The flu turned into that weird guy who came to your party and is still too drunk to drive home after everyone else leaves. This winter season the flu crashed on my couch and puked in my clothes hamper.
It seemed like I was sick forever. I went to the doctor three times after Christmas until now. Nothing seemed to take away the evil sickness. Almost everyone I had talked to was in the same sinking ship.
Sitting in a classroom these first couple of weeks is like sitting in a doctor’s office waiting room. The symphony of sneezing punched up by the sound of snot being
sucked back up into a person’s skull could give anyone a headache, even if they were somehow lucky enough to avoid the plague.
The classroom turns into a literal cesspool of germs. Every surface you touch has been smeared with infection by a dozen students. Wash your hands all you want; if we don’t turn into a smart Japanese-like campus and all don surgical masks, the sick are bound to infect the un-sick. You didn’t think that the flu only went home with your best friend, did you? That dirty girl is sneaking into everyone’s bed, and peeing by accident all over your new sheets.
The last time I stopped in to see my doctor, I was informed that I had mono. I must stress the fact that I am not 17, nor in a band, or making out with people willy-nilly; so, how this sickness overtook me, I am unsure. I mean really, who gets mono?
The moral of the story, kids, is be careful who you’re swapping spit with, and where you are putting your hands. The way this winter season is shaking out, you’re going to get sick. If you haven’t yet, just wait: It will get you. And don’t forget, the clinic on campus is charging you now. You’re going to have to pay for that doctor’s note, in multiple ways.
